


A Rainbow Spun From Carmine and Lace

by Garnet_Sekai



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Autistic Frisk, Child Death, Depression, Emotional Support, Gen, Guidance, Hope, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Original Character(s), Sign Language, Storytelling, self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 105,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnet_Sekai/pseuds/Garnet_Sekai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"If you would have it, I will tell you the story of a child who came to us in the same way as you..."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>In hopes of convincing Frisk not to leave the Ruins, Toriel tells the human child stories of those who fell before them. However, Toriel does not know the full story of any of the children save for one, and another must fill in the stories that she could never know.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>"If I did not know you deserve it, I would think you spoiled, Frisk. Even monster children do not normally get to be told two bedtime stories."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patience, Side A ~ Awaiting the Opportune Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Giving a Six Souls story and cast of my own a spin. Some of the chapters need extra warnings, so I'll note those in the start of those chapters. Also, debating whether this should pick up the autistic-frisk tag or not (I know sensory stuff is part of autism and I've seen that emphasized a lot in other works with that tag, but I imagine there's more to it than that?) anyway speak up if you feel strongly one way or the other! As far as the tags go they are mostly there because of Chara and their situation, but nobody climbs Mt. Ebott without a reason. (Also child-death tag because it's kind of hard to get around that considering the content???)
> 
> Nothing special in terms of warnings or notes for this chapter in any case, aside from being curious whether people think I'm being too heavy-handed with some of the sensory stuff.

Deep underground, behind a wall forged by mages long ago for reasons only half-remembered, lies a kingdom where the monsters live. In that kingdom stands a great door that has lain shut for centuries, warded by magics against any who would enter. Behind this door, as every monster schoolchild knows, once lay Home, the former capital of the kingdom, where every monster once lived before their Hope appeared and they left to populate the caverns. (As every monster schoolchild also knows, their king, Asgore, is not particularly talented with names.) As far fewer monsters (schoolchildren or otherwise) knew, save the king, behind that door, some monsters still remained.

On that particular day, behind that door lurked flames. Roiling, bright, beautiful, born of a powerful magic whose like no monster on the far side had seen in a very long time. Among those flames, panting, eyes darting furtively beneath sleepy, heavy lids, dashed a human child.

Frisk's eyes fixed wearily on the monster who stood before them, the source of the fire. Toriel stood, tall, unmovable. She could see how weary Frisk had become, and the flames parted to either side. "Will you not give this up, my child?" she asked, slowly. "Please, let us go home. I will gladly heal you and take care of you, as I have until now."

With a slight whimper, Frisk dropped the stick they had been holding and toddled forward, resting their forehead against Toriel's middle. They relaxed as her arms scooped them up. "Thank you, my child. I am sorry that I am forced to take such measures."

For a while, Frisk closed their eyes, focusing on the sensation of being carried along, and the almost silent sound of Toriel's velvet-like paws against the stone. They had marveled at them, with a thrill not entirely their own, the first time they had caught sight of Toriel reclining with her feet up and seen the soft, deep pink pads, almost like a cat's, that cushioned her soles.

After a few long moments, Frisk opened their eyes - as much as they ever did, anyway - and shifted their focus, pulling one of Toriel's hands against themself. There were no pads here, but strong claws, and Frisk sighed softly as Toriel gently pressed the blunt claws into their palm. Slowly, Frisk let their fingers slide their way up along the smooth, cool surface, tiny shivers flowing through their tiny body. Toriel pulled them a little closer, smiling down at them.

"We will be home soon, my child," she promised gently, shifting to cradle the human just a little more carefully against her soft violet robes. "Please, do not feel as if you must hold back. I am more than a little used to being played with."

She gave a wistful little chuckle at that, and Frisk's hands slid up, eyes fixing on the deep matte darkness of her claws even as their fingers sank into the soft white fur that covered the monster's entire body. The fur parted easily, and Toriel smiled at the happy slight noise Frisk made as they managed to work their fingers deep enough for the tips to brush against the soft skin between the child's fingers.

Toriel had slowed her pace, but all too soon they had reached Home again, and Toriel stood, still holding Frisk, in the room she had prepared for them to stay in. She sighed quietly as she sank down onto the bed, but managed a smile as Frisk almost immediately dove from her lap and buried themself in the myriad blankets she had found for them since their arrival. Only their eyes peeked out, opening just a little wider in the dim light.

Carefully, Toriel reached out and pressed their claws to Frisk's cheek, hesitating long enough for the child to nod and smile before making contact. "I am truly sorry, my child. I only wish there was a way to avoid such measures..."

Frisk closed their eyes again. Already, they could feel heat curling across their skin. Every burn and weal, every injury the fire magic had left on them, was growing hot all over again. Frisk smiled slightly even as the heat grew; this was not the sort of heat that made their nerves shriek and their mind recoil from the present, but focused their thoughts and sent their spine shuddering. The feeling grew and grew, until Frisk was sure if they opened their eyes and looked, their whole body would be shining.

When the heat had given way to a coldness that made Frisk shiver and smile all the more, they opened their eyes again, peering out. "Mom?" they asked, furtively.

Toriel started slightly, shifting to press the side of their claw against Frisk's cheek. "What is it, my child?" She smiled a little. "You are sure you wish to continue to call me that, considering the events of today?"

Frisk's mouth puckered slightly. "Asgore's past that door. I understand." They winced. "But why are you so sure? Who is he?"

Toriel lowered her gaze. Gently, she lifted the blankets and cradled them against her, Frisk still inside. "It is... near to bedtime, my child," she said slowly. "I suppose that we could make time for a story. If you are willing to hear one so... bleak."

Frisk nodded firmly, brow dimpling. "I want to know."

Toriel gave a long sigh. "Asgore... to begin with. Asgore is the king of all monsters. He rules all this land, from the first step one might take beyond the Ruins, to his castle at the far reaches of where the Barrier permits monsters to live."

Frisk nodded. "Nobody rules the Ruins?"

Toriel laughed weakly. "Nobody has ruled this place for a very long time, no. Now, surely you know of the war long ago between humans and monsters, the conclusion of which was the creation of the Barrier by seven human mages."

When Frisk nodded, Toriel sighed and continued. "However, many years ago, Asgore declared war once again. A terrible tragedy befell the king, and in his grief, he declared he would destroy the barrier and bring destruction to mankind. To do this, he requires the souls of seven humans, to gain power equal to the mages who created the barrier at the end of the first war."

Frisk nodded. "But..."

Toriel shook her head firmly. "You asked why I am so certain that he will take your soul. The simple answer is that I have seen him do it. I told you I would tell you a story, my child. If you will have it, I would give you the story of a child just like you, who came to us in the same way..."

Frisk nodded again. "I want to hear."

Arms squeezed tightly around Frisk, and they snuggled contentedly into the blankets. "This came to pass a long time ago, my child. Before I sealed the door that you tried to pass through today. Indeed, it would not be wrong to say this was the reason for me to seal it." She managed a weak smile. "I had been dwelling here in the Ru... no, in Home, for a time already. I had... consciously distanced myself as much as I possibly could from Asgore, after his declaration. If truth be told... I did not fully trust myself not to confront him, in public or not. And that sort of open disunity would have been... harmful to everyone around us. Even more so than our separation."

Frisk tensed visibly at that word. It took almost a minute of Toriel's claws pressing gently against their cheek, their tiny hands caressing the surface the whole time, before she could continue. "I had gone on a walk. To... reminisce, as it were, about a subject I do not think I am prepared to bring up tonight. But, as I made to return, a truly awful noise reached my ears."

Toriel took a long breath before she continued, clutching Frisk a little more tightly against herself. "I hastened down the corridor to the same place where I had found you, my child. As I am sure you might have guessed, what I found there was a human child. I... do not wish to recount the state I found her in." She closed her eyes.

"You can stop." Frisk wrapped their hand gently around a claw.

Toriel shook her head. "I just... may need a moment, from time to time. Where was I..." She sighed. "To heal... damage to that... degree, is difficult. It is a lengthier process than when I healed you earlier. After all, your injuries were from magic, and humans are resilient indeed against magic. It is one reason that... that our battles were so one-sided..." She swallowed. "Forgive me, my child, I seem to have slipped into recounting a very different tale that you surely have no wish to hear."

"Not tonight." Frisk pressed the tip of their finger against the end of the claw.

"Of course." Toriel sighed slowly. "Regardless, I needed time. Time to assess exactly what the... the fall had done to her, and to begin mending it. She was in pain, of course, but it did give us some time to speak with one another."

Frisk smiled lightly. "What did you talk about?"

Toriel shook her head. "Well, I introduced myself first, of course. She, in turn, told me her name was Peloche. I assured her I had no wish to harm her, and that I would endeavor to heal her pain from her fall. She asked me to tell her what I was doing..." She paused, and chuckled. "She listened so intently, without saying a word, but the look in her eyes when I had almost finished speaking... soon enough I was giving her quite the dissertation on healing magics." She raised an eyebrow. "And do not think I will be swayed from my story to tell you about those, my child; you will have plenty of time to learn about all sorts of magic built right into the curriculum I have made for you..."

Frisk giggled, and Toriel nodded. "It took some time, but by evening, she was well enough for me to move her. I took her to my home, of course, out of sight of the other monsters who might grow too curious, or believe it their duty to inform Asgore. I put Peloche to bed, and took my rest beside the door for the night. I worried she might try to get up and move, but she had a great deal more healing to go."

She paused, and sighed. "Thankfully, when I woke, long after she had, Peloche was still laying in bed, watching me. When I expressed how glad I was she had waited, she simply smiled in return, and told me that even a child could know the value of patience. She understood that moving around would only hurt her more, for now, and she asked only that I let her know when I thought she was hale enough to get out of bed."

Frisk frowned. "Was she really badly hurt?"

Toriel paused. "The flowers that kept you safe had not even sprouted when she fell. Peloche had nothing to break her fall but the hard ground. I was present at just the right time to be able to start healing her right away, but if I had not..." She closed her eyes. "It was a few days before she was able to get out of bed even for short periods, and the better part of a week before I trusted she would be all right going outside." She paused. "It was not even two days before Asgore visited."

Frisk tensed, their hand gripping around Toriel's claw. "What was he doing there?"

Toriel rolled her eyes. "Oh, he had visited on quite a few occasions by then. He wanted so dearly to convince me to return to New Home. He would implore me with talk of solidarity, what we had once shared..." She paused. "... I do not wish to speak of what else he tried to use to win me over. Suffice to say, trying to use that angle was a doomed endeavor from the beginning." Another long sigh. "On this occasion, I admit I was sharper than normal with him. I feared he might discover Peloche, and what he might try to do even with me present if he were to see her. I... well, to be frank, I chased him out and away from Home. It was only after he was gone that I heard Peloche ringing the little bell I had lent her."

Toriel shifted. "She seemed sad when I entered. I suppose she must have heard us, or at the very least me, talking. She asked who had come to visit, naturally, and little else. But, I have already told you how Peloche was when she was curious. Her patience was, in a way, a signal that she wanted to know more. Soon enough, she had wrung the full story from me. Even what should have been too raw for me to tell, what I even now find hard to speak of. Ignoring the pain even that little effort must have brought, she touched my face and smiled at me. 'Just be patient,' she told me. 'You're good, and your life will be good again, you'll see.'"

Frisk nodded. "Patient..."

Toriel tensed. "Seeing her there so vulnerable, my emotions ran away with me. I thought of Asgore, of what he had tried to use to coax me into returning to New Home. What he and I had lost. What he planned to take away from Peloche, should he find her. I declared then and there that I was going to protect her from him. That I would never let Asgore set foot anywhere near her again, no matter what that meant doing."

Frisk paled. "The door?"

Toriel nodded. "As I threatened when you tried to leave. As part of me still urges me to do now. There is no longer any other way to leave the Ruins save that door. If I carry out that threat, you can never go to the lands where Asgore holds sway, and he can never claim your life. Back then, I vowed to Peloche I would destroy the door and seal Home away from the rest of the Underground forever, keeping Asgore forever from finding her and taking her life."

She sighed. "And yet... Peloche admonished me for being hasty. She told me that she did not want me to do such a thing. Patience, and faith, she counseled, as if I were the child and she the silly old lady old enough to have memories of a war. And yet, I listened. 'Asgore was not always this way, isn't that true?' she asked me. And I could not deny that. Peloche reached out to me again, and she told me again to be patient. To believe in Asgore. Either Asgore would remember who he was and what he truly wanted, or I would find the chance to remind him. But if I sealed off the Ruins, and what Asgore needed was my help to bring him to his senses, then he might remain lost for always."

Frisk looked up at Toriel hesitantly. "Is that why you still haven't destroyed it?"

Toriel glanced to the side. "I have my reasons, my child. And, truth be told, as I knelt there, listening to that wonderful little girl... I started to wonder. Deep down, I thought, maybe Peloche was my chance. With her help, I could bring Asgore to his senses, and he would recant his declaration of war at last. The Underground could be vibrant again, like it was once. And Peloche, who had climbed the mountain, could have a home here."

She paused. "Here. In the Underground." Toriel winced. "It was a few days later that Peloche was able to go outside again, with me at her side. When the time came to head back inside and rest, I remember she looked at me and asked, 'Miss Toriel? I can wait until you think it'll be all right, but how long do you think it will take until I am well enough to go home? I made a terrible mistake, and I need to make it right, and soon, before I upset my parents too much.' I was... taken aback. Truly, I did not know what to say, at first."

Frisk nodded. "Because we can't?"

Toriel closed her eyes. "That is right. The barrier does not discriminate. Human and monster alike cannot leave the Underground so long as it remains. When I finally could bring myself to explain this to Peloche, she smiled. 'Well, I suppose this is an excellent demonstration of how valuable being patient is. Please, promise me you will show more patience with Asgore than I did my own situation.'" She gave a long sigh. "I had wondered what sort of life she had lived up until then. That smile told me far too much. I resolved to speak about it with her, and soon. But, life and art follow one another too closely sometimes. I never had the chance to learn."

Frisk whimpered. "Asgore?"

Toriel tensed. "Yes. Asgore came the very next day to visit with me again. Peloche was taking a rest outside; I could hardly deny her that when she had been cooped up in bed for so long already. I did my best to be cordial with him, but I remained firm; I could and would never support a war against humans. I appealed to his memory, to his hopes, to the love I knew he still held, but he too was unmoving. Eventually, I sent him off to give myself time to cool my head. He intended to go visit with the monsters of Home, and left. By the front door."

Frisk shivered. "Where Peloche was..."

Toriel winced. "I had hoped she had enough presence of mind to keep hidden. She was playing in the pile of leaves beneath the old tree, but when Asgore approached, she stood up. I still remember it. A human child, leaves in her hair, the slack of an old silk ribbon gently curving between her pigtails, standing straight beneath a tree far older than her, and before that child, Asgore, eyes wide, staring, his back bent and his hands trembling. And..."

She trailed off, and Frisk whimpered. "Do you want to stop?"

Toriel's eyes flicked down to the child in her arms, and she smiled. "Thank you, my child. But having told this far, I cannot stop now. And you must understand what kind of person Asgore is. Then you will understand why I cannot allow you to go to where he holds sway. By force and by fire if I must."

She took a deep breath. "It is strange. When Peloche advised me to show patience with Asgore, my first thought was that I had none left. And yet... when I saw her stand and address Asgore, who I had told her had declared war on every last human, who she knew desired to take her soul, who I knew was capable of doing so... I hesitated. I was patient, as my child had asked of me. And... I suppose, deep down, I allowed myself to have faith in Asgore, and in Peloche."

Frisk squeezed Toriel's claw gently. "That was the right way."

Toriel lowered her head. "Thank you, my child. But in this case, my patience, my faith, cost dearly. And I was not the one made to pay the price." She sighed. "Asgore was... as articulate as always. 'Golly. This is... awkward. Er, well... nice day today, isn't it?' I was unable to hear Peloche from where I sat. She was always fairly quiet when she spoke, after all. His hands started to tremble the more she spoke. When he finally replied, I could barely catch it. But I should have realized the signs far earlier than that." She drew in her breath.

Frisk pressed close. "What did he tell her?"

"'It was nice to meet you, Peloche. And I am very sorry.' That was it. By the time he finished speaking, his trident was in his hands, and then..." Toriel squeezed her eyes shut. "After the deed was done, he bent his ear close to Peloche for a long moment. When her eyes finally fluttered closed, he gathered her body into his arms and strode away. Never once looking back at me."

"And then you sealed the Ruins?" Frisk's voice gave Toriel a start after the long silence that followed her words.

She wrapped Frisk tightly against herself. "No. Before I sealed Home away from Asgore forever, I decided to be patient for just a brief moment longer. I returned, for a short time, to New Home, that I might set my affairs in order. There was something precious there, something I knew I could not leave with Asgore. Not after what he had done to Peloche, and to me. Not now that I knew what that action represented. He had claimed a soul, and yet..." She shook her head. "... it is enough to know that patience was no longer an option. My child, if he finds you, nothing, not even his own heart, will prevent him from taking your soul. Just as he did that child's. That is why I retreated to Home, and sealed the way."

Frisk slowly let go of Toriel, curling into the core of the blankets. "I'm sorry."

Toriel laughed gently, her hands pressing down over the soft covers. "If anyone should apologize, my child, it is I. I failed her, before I could even begin to try to take care of her." She rose. "Would you like my company tonight?"

Frisk thought for a long moment, but then shook their head. "Not tonight. These are enough."

Toriel laughed again, pressing a careful kiss to Frisk's forehead. They smiled and wiggled softly at the brief touch of the curve of her fangs. "Then I will see you in the morning, my child. I hope dearly the lessons I have prepared will be to your liking." With a last smile, she moved to the door and clicked off the light.

"Mom?" Frisk's voice was soft, muffled by the blankets. "What did Peloche tell him?"

Toriel put a hand to her heart gently. "She asked him to bear her last words to me. It was days before Asgore could bring himself to carry out her request." She closed her eyes. "'I wanted to apologize for what I said. I should never have implied that my coming here was a mistake. It never could be, when coming here meant I was able to be raised by you.'" Her voice cracked. "'I know that we didn't spend as long together as either of us wished, but I'm still very lucky to have had any time at all.'"

Frisk smiled. "She was your child, wasn't she?"

Toriel beamed, her eyes crinkled. "Of course. As are you. For as long as you wish to be." She began to hum softly.

Frisk gently hummed in return. "Good night, Mom."

Toriel's smile widened, just a little bit. "Sleep well, my child." With a last hummed note, she closed the door.


	2. Patience, Side B ~ Animated Conversation Among the Deceased

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings: Unsure if "abandonment" is something that warrants a TW but I'll warn for it here anyway. Along similar lines, I'm not sure exactly what screwing with someone's gender _presentation_ specifically (making someone wear the other gender's clothing but not actually calling them the wrong gender or pronoun) would be called, but whatever flavor of or term tangential to "misgendering" that is, it's present in this chapter.  
>  Additionally, brief warning for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it oblique reference to deadnames.

For a while after Toriel left the room, the only sound was of Frisk getting comfortable in their bed. After a long, long moment, they sighed. "Go ahead..."

"What do you mean?" The voice Frisk heard was clipped. "Go ahead with what? And why did you send Toriel away? You absolutely are not content with just those blankets..."

Frisk hummed. "You had something to say."

The voice sighed. "... so I did. You sent Toriel away just for that?"

Frisk nodded. "You don't want her to know you're here."

They closed their eyes. As always, the image flashed across their lids; a human child, barely half a head taller, their chestnut hair just a few shades lighter than Frisk's own muddy brown. Their warm red eyes shifted slightly. "If I did not know you deserve it, I would think you spoiled, Frisk. Even monster children do not normally get to be told _two_ bedtime stories."

Frisk giggled shyly. "Please, Chara?"

Chara's voice was low. "I suppose it would be ungrateful of me to refuse, after today's exertions." They sighed. "Where shall I begin?"

Frisk paused. "How did you know Peloche? Before they fell..."

Chara chuckled. "I died, yes. Incidentally, let me put one question to rest: Toriel was absolutely right about Peloche's gender. She has a knack for reading that sort of thing. She knew you were like me from the start, if you recall."

Frisk nodded, waiting. Chara sighed, and went on. "Because of the circumstances of my death, at the time I was bound to my own body. Which Asgore had kindly provided a lovely casket to secure. Apparently he was too sentimental not to have some way to visit me... but not sentimental enough to handle things in the proper human fashion. From time to time, I was aware of him talking to me, but he never seemed to genuinely be aware of my presence."

They paused. "When Peloche lost her life, Asgore gave her body the same treatment as my own. When he first laid her by my side... it was a rather invigorating experience." Another pause, longer this time. "As we are both intimately aware, determination allows a human soul to persist after death. Your power stems from this."

"Our power." Frisk's voice was obstinate. They had had this argument before.

Chara ignored them. "Patience and determination are not far separated. Peloche was, if you will excuse the phrasing, determined to continue being patient, even in death. To have such a fount of determination so close to my own tattered reservoir... it was..."

Frisk giggled quietly. "Chara was like a moth."

Chara groaned. "Can't you at least compare me to something more dignified...?" They cleared their non-existent throat. "But, I suppose. Her determination drew me in. The moment I was close enough, she greeted me and introduced herself." A snort. "I felt like I was about to be curtsied to."

Frisk hummed. "You liked mine better?"

Chara snorted again. "I'll take 'I call myself Frisk, how about you?' and an expectant silence over being treated like royalty, definitely." They paused. "I was... surprised to hear you put it that way, honestly. Peloche said 'my name is' and asked my name like everyone else."

Frisk tensed slightly. "It's right."

Chara sighed. "Anyway... From there, we spoke for a while. There was nobody around but us, after all, and Asgore could not bring himself to visit me while Peloche lay at my side. I had better luck drawing her into talking of herself, though."

"What was Peloche like?" Frisk was beaming gently.

"Well, you begin to remind me of her." Behind Frisk's closed lids, Chara was smirking lightly. "She was deeply curious. I said I had better luck, not that we spent all our time talking about her. She had me go over every last aspect I could remember of the monsters I had known when I was alive." They paused. "And, to be honest, that's probably why I remember enough to give you pointers, even considering most of the rest of it's gone to shit."

Their voice had turned bitter, and Frisk gripped the soft part of their forearm, letting the nails press snugly into their skin. After a long moment, Chara sighed. "... a little better. But yes, she plumbed the depths of my mind for as much as she could learn of monsters. I almost started to think she expected to wake up one day and explore the world her death had denied her and me."

Frisk gave another hum. "So, besides filling out a bestiary, what did you talk about?"

Chara dissolved into snorts for a brief moment. "Well. Eventually talk turned to the past, naturally. They told me about meeting Toriel, and being cared for... and, well, what befell them afterwards." They paused. "I did not especially relish hearing what Asgore had done. But, Peloche refused to lay blame where it belonged. She couldn't get me to talk about my... about before. I suppose her offering details of her own 'before' was an attempt to draw me into reciprocating."

Chara paused. "One thing she continued to reiterate again and again was that she had not been patient. That her ills stemmed all from failures to be patient. With herself, with her... parents." They spat the last word. "When her teacher snapped at her for asking too many questions, it was because she was not patient enough to wait to learn the answers. When her father raged at her and called her greedy, it was because she had not been patient enough to wait for his mood to calm to ask for dinner. And when she found herself alone on the woods beneath Mt. Ebott, well..."

Frisk was quiet for a long moment. "Her too?" they finally said.

A tight smirk curled across Chara's lips. "Oh, most certainly. A quiche, just like the two of us." The smirk widened. "Hey, Frisk. Which of us do you think that makes the _quiche de resistance_?"

Frisk's only response was stony silence. Chara's smirk faltered by slow, halting degrees. Finally, Frisk sighed. "Chara, you're only saying what happened to her."

Chara considered. "You really do remind me of Peloche, a bit. She was a master of leading questions, even more than you. Toriel probably could have groomed her into a fine teacher someday. Or at the very least, an actually thoughtful philosopher." They paused. "It wasn't only questions, either, though. She had this way with silence. When you thought you were done speaking, she would just wait and let everything pause. From my position, it almost felt like her soul was thrumming with eagerness. Waiting, inviting... I honestly told her a fair bit more than I had thought myself comfortable with."

"Anything I don't know?" Frisk shifted.

"No, she never got anything out of me that you don't know." Chara's voice was clipped now. "One thing you two definitely don't share, she went out of her way to seem polite. She would have gotten along splendidly with Toriel. If, you know, she weren't dead."

"You can stop." Frisk's voice trembled lightly.

"Toriel did not." Chara sighed. "Let me try something more simple. Less likely to draw me towards unpleasant thoughts." Another pause hung in the air. "Are you interested at all in what she looked like, perhaps? You already know we can share memories, and she was willing to show me herself."

Frisk considered this for a long moment before they nodded. "Can you pass on something she shared with you?"

"I have not tried, to be honest." Chara's voice sounded bored. "But in any case I am a storyteller, not a picture book, Frisk."

Frisk pouted. "I like those though. Like when we read about the water sausages."

Chara chuckled briefly. "Peloche... I remember her hair most. It was a really beautiful, deep red color, like russet yet more vibrant. She had a yellow silk ribbon that she always wore in it, no matter how long or short it was cut."

Frisk beamed. "Like your eyes?"

Chara snorted. "That's quite the insult, comparing her hair to these orbs of mine."

"Or maybe I'm just trying to be a _chara_ mer." Frisk giggled to themself.

"And somehow I fail to be surprised you'll try flirting even with a ghost." They paused. "What am I saying? I've seen you at it myself. On our first day, at that. Now, where was I... Her eyes were more like yours than like mine. Darker, though. A chocolate to your loam. It made a nice gradient with her skin, considering she was every inch an Iberian girl."

Frisk nodded. "What sort of fashion did she like?"

Chara paused. "Dresses, mostly, when she could get them. When she could not, long skirts and snug blouses; I remember she mentioned trying the Ren Faire style once or twice. That's when she could get even those, mind. Her parents usually tried their best to fill her bureau with T-shirts and shorts and jackets and jeans. Not exactly the most feminine sort of clothing."

Frisk sighed. "Was it a compromise? Or what they thought was one?"

Chara blinked. "They just were that weird sort that would howl about how being feminine meant being subservient to males and that no daughter of theirs would degrade herself that way. I don't think she actually was trans? I mean, good guess, but that wasn't the impression I got." They snorted. "I mean, you would never catch me in a dress, but then..."

Frisk nodded. "It's mean. Even I like to dress up sometimes, and I'm like you."

Chara made a choking sound. "I think I might actually like to see that. I mean, if I'm around sometime you want to do that." Another pause. "That was the real problem, honestly. Peloche loved being feminine, being pretty, doing 'girly' things. But her parents were convinced that she was just being complacent. That she only thought that she enjoyed such pastimes because society had dictated that those things were girly and that she had to like them because she was a girl. They were hell-bent on raising Peloche to be a 'proper' tomboy, I guess."

Frisk was frowning now. Chara considered for a moment, and cleared their incorporeal throat. "In my professional opinion, I believe I would diagnose both of them with a cranio-rectal insertion."

That did it. After the minute or two it took Frisk to unpack Chara's words, they rolled over and buried their face in their pillow, shaking with giggles. Chara sighed softly. "I am glad you understood that verbiage, my child," they intoned, in a passable impression of Toriel's voice. "As far as Peloche... well, that was always friction for her and her parents. They would sign her up for shop, and she would ditch it to go up the street and learn tea ceremony from a family that had emigrated a few months ago. They bought her a pile of shorts, and she got a local tailor to remake them as makeshift skirts."

Frisk nodded. "They were wrong. But they thought they were right. That made them dangerous."

Chara spluttered. "Okay, holy shit, Frisk, way to pick the best of those movies to quote? Also that is pretty much exactly the problem Peloche had, and she knew it. And of course her answer was to be patient and hope they came around and understood that she _liked_ doing things like being pretty and arranging flowers and gossiping with her friends."

"When did she finally give up being patient?" Frisk's voice was subdued.

Chara sighed. "Oh, around the time they packed up their campsite and bolted while she was getting water from the stream. The usual quiche things. And of course, they were camping at the foot of Mt. Ebott, so up the slopes she went, until she found..."

"Stop." Frisk was tense now. Chara winced. "I... don't want to talk about that."

Chara nodded. "Yes. That is fair enough, and far enough, I think." For a moment, Frisk felt something like a hand touching their shoulder.

Frisk rolled onto their side. "I don't want to end on that note, Chara."

Chara considered. "Well, let me think."

"What did they think of Toriel?" Frisk shifted a little.

Chara laughed. "Oh, she loved Toriel, very much. How could anyone not? She was already starting to plot out ways to reconcile her and Asgore from the moment she heard about what he did. She even told me about quite a few." They paused, again. "For a dead girl, she certainly acted quite a lot as if she were someday going to be able to implement them."

Frisk pondered. "Maybe that's why she told you."

"I doubt that. But maybe I am just projecting." Chara gave a long sigh. "I do remember one thing. She drove her parents crazy over footwear. She hated the feeling of things like stockings on her feet, and as often as she could get away with she would wear sandals, or even go barefoot. Mind, she certainly kept them clean enough to justify it." They chuckled. "I gave her a lot of grief over how clearly the real reason was that she had a thing for feet. She would just taunt me right back that I was the one who wanted her to pay attention to mine. Or that I was just jealous of how lovely her toenails looked when painted."

Chara gave a long sigh. "And then, well, it was over."

Frisk nodded. "What did Toriel do?"

Chara gave another sigh. "Toriel was not willing to leave me with Asgore. I sometimes wonder if she suspected I was there, and feared he would use me the same way he would one day use Peloche. One night, I heard her enter, say her goodbyes and her many, many apologies to Peloche... and then I felt my body gathered up in her arms, and our connection starting to fray as I was carried rapidly away from the beacon Peloche's determination served as."

"And you couldn't keep talking?" Frisk's voice was wavering now.

"... no." Chara sighed. "Determination can draw me away from my body, but there is a limit. I was... weak, back then. I could not keep my hold. The last thing I remember of her was Peloche showing me an image of herself, arms open. When I let her 'hug' me, she told me, 'Don't worry. You and I will meet again. After all, I might be dead now, but I still exist, and so do you. We just have to be patient, you and I, and wait until the chance arises to do something good.' And then... I lost my grip, and Toriel carried me far, far away from New Home and from Peloche."

Frisk paused. "Chara? Why... did you talk to them, anyway?"

Chara glanced away. "Truthfully? After what I had had, before I died... what I lost, the moment of my death... I could give to you every last memory I have, and it still would never convey what I felt. How deeply my existence was _gouged_ by what they did. And after that... I was like a ghost." They paused, as if the word recalled something. "I 'existed' in this world. No doubt about that. But nobody noticed my presence. What good was my 'determination'? It didn't help anyone. Not even the passage of time could heal my pain. In fact, it only made it worse."

Frisk smiled, just a little. "Chara was lonely..."

"Chara was very lonely." A tiny smirk creased Chara's brow. "Until Peloche, nobody was even aware I was there. And then... I felt her. Peloche's determination. The presence of a person I could talk to. I... did not even care that it was a human. I clung to them. Anything to keep from being alone again."

Frisk closed their eyes completely. "Chara? Are you... still lonely?"

Chara blinked. "I am lonely when there is not a partner to hold to, but... I have you now."

Frisk winced. "So... are you lonely still?"

Chara caught their breath after a moment. "... no." Their voice was warmer. "I'm not lonely, Frisk. Not anymore. Now... go to sleep, before Toriel comes in wondering why you've been talking to yourself for almost an hour. All right?"

Frisk hummed softly. "G'night, Chara..."

"Sleep well, Frisk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wraps up Peloche's section, so some trivia for her that didn't make it in:  
> She is cis female, but her parents are kinda overboard on certain aspects of feminism; they wanted her to be a tomboy, while Peloche loves being uber-feminine (Chara was being completely serious about the tea ceremony thing). This along with other aspects of her behavior and Peloche actively subverting their commands caused tension between her and her parents until they eventually abandoned her on a camping trip. They reported her missing a few days later purely as a CYA measure, well after she had fallen down.  
> She totally stims with her toy knife (it has a retractable blade and the tension in the springs makes a very nice pressure to push and relax with). She had it when she confronted Asgore and dropped it after she died; later one of the monsters living in Home found it and ended up leaving it where Frisk finds it later.  
> Despite her extolling patience as a virtue, she has a fair amount of regret attached to it; she's well aware that in many cases she waited _too_ long and missed her opportunity to act. This regret occasionally stirs her to hasty action, such as jumping into a giant hole in the ground instead of waiting for parents she knew were unlikely to come back looking for her anytime soon.  
>  Peloche's name is drawn from the genus pelochelys, which is one of the many genera of turtles; pelochelys in particular encompasses three species of soft-shelled turtles that are almost exclusively ambush predators! It also, by genuine coincidence, the name of a small village in western Spain.  
> As a bonus: One of Chara's last lines in this chapter is a reference to a certain bit of media near and dear to Toby's heart. I'm curious if anyone will be able to pick up on it.


	3. Kindness, Side A ~ Jackboots and Pralines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, we're doing the Green Soul kid first. I'm altering the normal order here primarily to better fit how the arcs of certain other characters are affected by their interactions with the six. (I was at one point moving Purple before Orange as well, but eventually decided Orange first fit better for a different arc and character than Green coming second benefits.)  
> Chapter warnings: long-term misgendering warning with internalization of said misgendering, reference to past abuse/harm, scarring, a brief brush with Bad Texture Hell for Frisk. Also a brief moment of self-blaming on Frisk's part before Toriel directly contradicts them. These warnings apply to Side B as well; Side B also earns warnings for brief mention of trauma and suicidal ideation.

The next day, Frisk spent the morning among the puzzles that littered the Ruins. Most of the monsters knew by now to leave the strange squishy child alone, and the few that hadn't heard or forgot were easy to calm down after the first burst of magical greetings.

When they returned for lunch, after they had eaten they showed Toriel what they had found on their painstaking search.

"Goodness." Toriel's eyes crinkled as she ran her claws over it. "Where on earth did you find this, my child?"

"In the leaf piles." Frisk nodded firmly. "The ones for the puzzle where you find the switch."

Toriel nodded. "I had thought I lost this. This belonged to Peloche, once. When I... when I left New Home for good, I took it with me, to remember her by. To remember what might have been, or perhaps to have something to always remonstrate me." She looked up. "Would you like to wear it?"

Frisk considered. Their hair was barely past their chin, so it would be hard to wear it in their hair, and even through the cuff of their turtleneck they shuddered even considering wearing it around their neck. With a hesitant motion, they lifted their sleeve.

Toriel took a slow breath as she drew close. Frisk glanced down at their arm, half-expecting their skin to be unblemished. They quickly chastised themself for being uncharitable. As Toriel bent close, they made themself remember.

_Their sweater had been torn in the fall, a long rip under the sleeve that crossed both of the pink stripes that crossed the warm blue material. They had tried to hide it, but Toriel's eyes were far too sharp for that. She had only insisted on them changing in their bedroom and handing the sweater out to her, but Frisk had found themself strangely reluctant to put on the heavy, slightly larger sweater she had offered them. Instead, they handed out the sweater and quickly withdrew their hand, but a gasp and the look on Toriel's face when they peeked around the door showed they had not been fast enough._

_Toriel had been startled, as anyone might be. But her eyes were more misty than frightened when Frisk could finally bring themself to meet them again. She said nothing, only finished darning the tear in the old sweater's side. When she had given it back to Frisk, she had gently touched their arm with the tips of her claws. "My child. Would you like me to heal these as well? Or are they important enough that you wish them to remain?"_

_Frisk had been unable to speak. Their hands darted nervously about, before one clutched to their chest and circled frantically. Toriel brightened, and lifted Frisk into her arms. "If that is what you wish, you need not apologize. I will always respect your wishes, my child."_

Toriel withdrew, smiling softly. "How will that suit you?"

Frisk blinked and peered down. Toriel had tied one end of the yellow ribbon just below Frisk's shoulder, the old, faded silk winding down loosely until it tied just above their wrist and the end dangling down in a perfect position for Frisk to catch and rub it between their fingers whenever they wished.

Frisk gently circled their heart with a fist. "I thought you might have forgotten." They glanced at their arm.

Toriel shook her head. "I have made that mistake before, my child," she said, gently sliding down Frisk's sleeve to cover it again. "If it would make you uncomfortable, then I will not heal them."

Frisk nodded. That night they fell asleep nestled against Toriel, a quiet song ringing in their ears and theirs alone.

Three days later, Frisk went to sleep in their own bed again. In the depths of the night, a soft voice brought them back to wakefulness. With silent, padding feet, Frisk slipped down the hall, listening for a long moment at Toriel's door. Clutching their few possessions, they scampered down the stairs and through the long hallway that led towards their destination.

The moment the door came in sight once again, Frisk stopped in their tracks. Not by their decision, or even Chara's urging, but because their feet would no longer move. They stared down, and cried out as an awful _slimy_  sensation coated the soles of their feet, and one slid barely an inch forward. A shiny, sticky trail was left in their foot's wake, and both feet refused to lift.

Frisk was trembling from head to toe by the time a rush of air drove the feeling away, and familiar arms pulled them in. "I am afraid patience will do you little good, my child." Toriel sighed, holding the shaking child against herself and turning from the door. "I must stand firm, this time. You will not pass that door without facing and passing me."

Frisk clung wordlessly to Toriel's claws, whimpering. They were still shaking when Toriel reached their room and began to wind Frisk tightly in as many soft blankets as she could. "I must apologize, however. I did not consider you might react so strongly to the feel of the snail's mucus my magic created to bind you. I am truly sorry, my child."

"My fault." Frisk's voice was heavily muffled. They had wiggled down inside of the blankets, poking their feet out of the bottom. "I'm supposed to feel bad."

Toriel ran her claws carefully over the soles of Frisk's feet. "Because it is a punishment? Such a thing should never be used to punish a child. I set it with the intent of stopping you in your tracks, nothing more. It is a tool, like a locked gate or a high cupboard. I will leave it, as you have guessed, but to deter, not to punish. Please believe me that I do not ever intend to punish you for trying to leave."

"Only prevent me from it." Frisk sighed softly. "Mom? Will you tell me a story? Please?"

Toriel chuckled. "After sneaking out of bed and waking me by walking into my wards, all because you wanted to go past the door I told you I cannot let you pass?" She pressed just a little more firmly, and beamed as Frisk squeaked happily in response. "I suppose that is the reasonable response for a parent. What shall I tell you about?"

Frisk carefully rolled to their feet, then toppled onto their front again. They wiggled forward until they could just barely peek over the edge of the bed, down into the open wooden box that lay at its foot. "There's more than just one person's shoes."

Toriel nodded, gently helping to fix the blankets around Frisk. Her claws idly played with Frisk's toes as she spoke. "You are right, of course. Peloche was not the only child to fall down before you came into my life." She sighed. "But understand, I do not know all of each child's story. Once they pass that door, they are lost to me for good."

"Couldn't you follow them?" Frisk's head was entirely hidden by blankets now, the fringe ruffling back and forth in time with their slow breathing.

"Magic is fickle." Toriel closed her eyes for a long moment. "The door prevents any from entering the Ruins. Until you, I had not prevented anyone from leaving if they truly desired it. Should I have followed, I would have to dissolve the wards and leave the Ruins unprotected for Asgore to enter at his will, or forever be separated from the one place where any child entering our home will arrive." She paused. "And, as well... I am not certain I trust myself, should I meet Asgore again face to face. And if I were to forget myself, the results would be... unfavorable."

Frisk nodded. "So, what happened after Peloche?"

Toriel leaned forward to rest her muzzle atop the bundle of blankets before her, which seemed to be pretending very hard it was not a human child small enough to sit comfortably astride her shoulders. "I had told you I arranged what I needed. Along with bringing Peloche's ribbon with me as a keepsake, there were... one or two dear treasures I could not bring myself to leave within Asgore's reach." Her eyes narrowed. "I imagine it pained him very much to wake the next morning and find both myself and them gone."

Frisk relaxed under the feeling of Toriel so close. "And then?"

Toriel sighed. "It was a long, quiet many years. I had learned too late from Peloche's injuries. I needed to provide safety. It was, I suppose, lucky that in all the great span of the Barrier, there was only one place a human would ever enter. But, as luck would have it, I woke one morning to find that space of ground making way for tiny green leaves to sprout. They were small at first, but very stubborn and hardy." She chuckled softly. "It was months before the right time of year came around for them to blossom. Suddenly, the loam was carpeted in green and yellow."

"The flowers I fell on?" Frisk paused. "Didn't this happen a long time ago?"

"I did say they were hardy." Toriel smiled softly. "No ordinary flower could support the spell I created, to help them break the fall of any child who might follow Peloche into the Underground. But those flowers... well, if I did not know such a thing was not possible, I might say they were..."

"Filled with determination?" Frisk was beaming beneath their blankets.

Toriel shifted. "That is perhaps an excellent way to put it." She sighed. "I suppose I should not be surprised, to be truthful. Considering where those flowers came from, that they were so hardy, to the point of being outright determined, was..."

She paused, and gave another sigh. "Listen to this silly old lady, prattling on about another story entirely, when you asked me to tell you about the first child who fell after I sealed the Ruins." She shook her head a little. "To be honest, I had hoped my spell would never be needed. But, I suppose you know even better than I how hollow such a hope would be, do you not?"

Frisk said nothing, and Toriel nodded. "Sure enough, one day when I went to visit... there was a child there, with a frightened face and hands buried in the flowers. Can you imagine? I was far more worried that the fall had injured the child, but instead the child's worry was for the flowers." She laughed. "Of course, the flowers were far hardier than that. Even without my magic, they would have been fine."

She thought for a moment. "I brought the child home as quickly as I could. I wanted to make sure that I could make the other monsters understand the situation, as I have tried to do for you as well. With that done, I turned to introductions."

"Greetings. I am Toriel. Just a silly old lady who worries too much." Frisk's voice was playful.

Toriel laughed. "That is approximate to what I said, in fact. Ypres was the name the child gave me, standing straight as a poplar through the whole introduction. And then I asked whether Ypres was a boy or a girl. I had my suspicions, you see." She chuckled. "Ypres was utterly startled when I asked. There stood a child with close-cropped hair, a bandage across the nose, formal shirt and tight pants, and I was raising the possibility of that child being anything else? 'Boy' was the response Ypres gave, and I let it stand at that. For the time being."

Frisk blinked. "But Ypres wasn't a boy?"

"That was my suspicion, at least." Toriel hummed. "Monsters are made of magic, you remember. Our bodies are not as physical as a human's, and so we attach less importance to what our bodies might appear. So we are used to picking up on cues in other ways. It is not that we never make mistakes, mind, but we do not assume based on the coin flip of biology. Mind, I did let it stand at that. When I spoke of Ypres or introduced the child to other monsters, I did so with 'he'."

Toriel paused for a moment. "Time passed. Ypres began to help me in the kitchen, more and more often. It was clear the child did very much love to cook. But I noticed more and more that Ypres was growing nervous about something. Staring into the mirror, playing with hair, flinching away whenever I should look too closely... One morning, Ypres came to me, teary-eyed, and begged me not to be cross for waiting so long, and begged me for a haircut."

Frisk shifted. "Ypres thought you would punish someone for not getting a haircut?"

Toriel nodded. "I of course assured the child that no punishment was forthcoming. Ypres' response was that boys are not ever supposed to have long hair. That letting it grow even as long as it already had was disgraceful. I simply took Ypres to the hall mirror, and asked just what seemed disgraceful about that image. Whether there was anything wrong or that Ypres disliked about the child looking back out of the mirror. I told Ypres I would cut it if that were genuinely desired, but it would be a shame to cut such beautiful hair otherwise."

Frisk nodded. "Did Ypres tell you to cut it?"

Toriel chuckled. "Ypres was too busy being dumbstruck at the idea that I was not ordering that it be cut. After staring into the mirror for a long time, without even a response, I let Ypres be. Although, it was not too long before there were some truly delicious smells coming from the kitchen."

Frisk nodded. "So Ypres liked long hair after all?"

"Well. A few days passed, and it never did get cut. One day, I came up behind Ypres when the food had just finished cooking. Ypres' hair had gotten even longer, long enough to tie up, and so I took a ribbon and used it as gently and carefully as I could to tie back that beautiful blonde hair into a tail." Toriel laughed. "Ypres bolted as soon as I was done, straight for the mirror. I followed, after a little while, to admire it as well. When Ypres looked at me, well..." She trailed off, misty-eyed.

Frisk poked their head and arms out of the blankets, reaching up hesitantly to touch between Toriel's eyes. "What did Ypres say?"

"'Excuse me, geitmama, but... are you going to be angry if I change my answer?'" She chuckled. "'To what, my child?' I asked, of course, and Ypres replied, 'To when I told you I was a boy. I think that I may have spoken in haste.'" Another chuckle. "'And what is your answer now?' Ypres was so quiet, so hesitant, but eventually... 'Geitmama, I think I was wrong before. I think, really, that... I'm a girl.'"

Frisk giggled softly. "What did you tell her?"

Toriel laughed. "Why, that I would be happy to help her see if she was right, of course. But really, from what Ypres told me, that one simple idea made things make so much more sense to her."

Frisk nodded. "What sort of things?"

Toriel hummed. "Well, let me consider. Ypres did tell me a little about her father. Apparently many of her family members, reaching back quite a few generations, had served in various militaries. He was a very proud man, and expected Ypres to follow him with the same discipline and serve as well, when she was older. In fact, apparently she had been named for a city near her homeland where a very important battle had taken place over a century ago."

Frisk smiled. "And realizing she was a girl made her resisting make sense to Ypres?"

Toriel nodded. "Even when she had done her best to adhere to her father's wishes, it had never felt entirely right to her. She respected him greatly and regarded her obedience as the appropriate actions for a disciplined child to make, but truthfully, she wanted to help serve in another way."A frown creased her face. "Of course, her father scoffed at the idea. At the idea of his _son_ even considering taking up such a path in life."

"But Ypres was his daughter." Frisk's eyes were narrower than usual.

Toriel cradled them gently. "Exactly, dear. The things he expected were not the things she wanted, because Ypres _was not_ his son." She smiled quietly. "Mind, it did not happen all overnight. Ypres was nervous about her hair for quite a while even after the first time I tied her ponytail. And no matter how long she stayed with me, she would often wear the clothes she had with her when she fell. Of course, properly finding and tailoring clothes for a young human was not the easiest task with Home sealed away, but it was our capital once. She was delighted when she saw some of the things we were able to make for her... even if she did not find herself wearing them perhaps as often as she intended."

Frisk nodded. "She was used to what she wore when she thought she was a boy?"

Toriel chuckled. "Well, and also, apparently that was the sort of clothing common to those in the military in those days. She never entirely gave up that part of her life, even though she could not return to it. In fact, most of what I taught her focused around the way in which she had wanted to serve."

Frisk shifted. "What did she want to be?"

Toriel was beaming now. "Camp cook, or so she described it. Someone who traveled with the people and made hot meals to keep their spirits up, and who knew at least a little bit of medicine to help patch up those who had been injured." She smiled. "The former, she certainly knew quite a bit about how to do. She even came up with a few techniques I had never considered before. Adapting to monster food was a bit difficult for her, of course, but often I would go looking for her at lesson time and find her over a cooking fire with a half-dozen monsters crowding around."

"What sort of things did you teach her?" Frisk was humming softly.

"Well," Toriel said. "I taught her all I could of cooking, of course. She was not all that much older than you, after all, and there were plenty of things she simply hadn't been alive long enough to learn yet. I, of course, do not know everything there is to know about cooking either, but I had moved many of my books with me when I moved to Home for good, and we were able to learn many things together. And, of course, Ypres had a few things to teach me, in return."

She trailed off for a long moment. "In fact, talking of her now reminds me of a few things. I may have to put one or two of the things she taught me into practice tomorrow night." She winked gently. "I also attempted to begin teaching her the basics of healing magic. This was far more difficult, of course, but she seemed to understand the basics of first aid already."

Frisk's humming broke off. "But I thought only monsters could have magic?"

Toriel shook her head. "Remember, dear, the Barrier was created by seven humans. It is why Asgore seeks seven souls to undo their handiwork. It is certainly rare, and I would not be surprised if you have never met one yourself. But the difference between humans and monsters is not that humans cannot use magic at all, but rather that humans do not possess the connection to magic that we monsters do. We are made of magic, my child, and to use that magic is as natural and instinctive as breathing is to humans. That is what humans lack, not the capacity. They can never use magic with such ease and understanding, but they can indeed learn how to wield it themselves."

"Are you going to teach me?" Frisk's eyes were strangely neutral.

Toriel smiled. "That would be entirely your decision. Ypres asked me to teach her what I could of medicine. She told me once that the town whose name she bore was important to her not because of the battles there, but rather of the battle that for a week and more was _not_ fought there. Another time, she told me that one of the most important aspects of modern human medicine was first attempted on the battlefields during the last battle fought in Ypres." She sighed. "I taught Ypres what I could, how to protect a wound and stop bleeding and cleanse the dirt. I taught her of how to properly bandage and splint, and I was even able to teach her how to prepare a fire and ensure it heated their cooking evenly. But for a human child to learn magic takes time, and I did not have nearly so much as I would have desired."

Frisk wilted a little. "What happened?"

Toriel gave a long sigh. "One night, Ypres asked me why I seemed so sad sometimes when I looked at her ribbon. I was feeling... nostalgic, that night. Melancholy and vulnerable. Foolishly, I told her about it."

Wordlessly, Frisk touched their arm, and Toriel nodded. "Yes, that very same ribbon was what I had adorned Ypres' hair with. Like the fool that I truly am, I told her about Peloche, and of Asgore, and yet not a word did I breathe of why he had taken that course. I confessed this was the reason I had made a rule that she never pass the door beyond my house."

"If anything, it made her treasure that ribbon all the more." Toriel gave a long sigh. "She seemed so pensive over the next several days. She was rarely home, spending most of her days in the streets of Home, talking with the monsters who lived there. I do not know what she had spoken with them about. Fool that I truly, truly am, I trusted in her kindness, in her valuing of discipline. I trusted that she would not break my rule and pass that door."

Frisk curled into their blankets, and Toriel embraced them. "And one day, I woke up to the finest batch of hazelnut pralines I had ever tasted, Peloche's ribbon gently folded before them, and a note." She took a long breath. "'Geitmama,' it read, 'I cannot think of you, or of Asgore, without wanting to my very core to do something. When my father told me stories of the war, deep down I had always wanted to do something to help the monsters. I did not believe what he told me, and now I know for sure he was wrong. After all the kindness you all have shown me, what kind of person would I be if I lived my life here and did nothing? I will help everyone, and that means Asgore too. Please, when I return, if you see him, do not be too angry with him or with me. I believe that nobody, least of all the king of all monsters, truly ever wishes for war. We only need find a way to remind him of that.'"

Toriel lowered her head for a long moment, and made no response when Frisk buried their fingers in the soft fur that covered her long, floppy ears. "I'm sorry."

Toriel slowly shook her head. "It was my decision to tell you, my child. You need never apologize for something I chose to do. But, understand this. The day I found that note was a very long time ago. Longer than humans live. Ypres never returned to Home or to the Ruins. For all the love in her heart, for all the love she professed for me and the other monsters, all her kindness and all I taught her, she never came back. Here, to the place where she told me she wondered if she belonged, the day she climbed the mountain. The place she told me she had become certain she did. Do you follow what that means, after so much time?"

Frisk remained silent. Toriel's eyes were hard, and her voice raw. "Ypres is dead, and I never saw her again. I never will see her again. Asgore does not care how kind you are, my child. How much you want to help the other monsters, or how convinced you are that he does not want this, will not ever matter. You cannot pass that door and keep your life." Her eyes wavered. "Please, my child. Give up your attempts to leave. I am only a silly old lady who worries far too much. Will you please spare me having to see yet another child leave to their death?"

"... I love you, Mom." That was all Frisk said before they hid their own face under the blankets once more.

Toriel laid a claw gently against their forehead. "I love you as well, my child. So very much." With a long sigh, she turned and slipped from the room.

 


	4. Kindness, Side B ~ For A World That Needs No War

"'The place I like best in the world is the kitchen.'" Chara's voice piped up, at long last, nearly an hour after Toriel had left. Frisk, inches from sleep, was almost immediately wide awake. "'No matter where it is, no matter what kind, if it's a kitchen, if it's a place where they make food, it's fine with me. Ideally it should be well broken in. Lots of tea towels, dry and immaculate. White tile catching the light, ting! ting!'"

Frisk remained silent, but Chara was no longer forthcoming. "You ever see sea glass, Frisk?"

Frisk shook their head slowly, and Chara sighed a bit. "I saw it sometimes. Bits of broken glass that wind up in the sea. Bottles, usually, stupid things that humans just throw out like it's no big deal at all." Their voice was sharp and cold for a moment. "The surf picks it up, and takes it away. For years, sometimes. Lost in the surf, slave to the currents that funnel through and feed the depths."

Their voice softened. "And then, one day, caught by a wave that can never know its own luck, and tossed back to lay on shore. Sometimes, a person will walk along the beach and find it. Sometimes, back into the depths again, this time maybe never to return to the sands."

Frisk tensed for a moment. Slowly relaxing, they asked, "What does it look like, after all that?"

Chara smiled slightly. "Sea glass is actually rather pretty. Some humans even make jewelry out of it. The heavy tumbling and polishing of the sea grinds down every edge until it's softer than Toriel's poker, and the chemical erosion of the salts in the sea slowly frost over the glass until you can only just barely see the world through it. I honestly wish I had kept some of mine; I do remember finding some, maybe even owning a piece of jewelry made from it." They paused, that thin smile stretching like a slash across their face. "But, considering my state of mind when I arrived, surely I can be forgiven for forgetting even a well-liked bauble like that."

"Absolutely. I forgive you." Frisk was trembling slightly again, but their jaw was set.

After a long pause, Chara sighed. "Anyway, as no doubt you already inferred, I bring this up because I know you were wondering throughout Toriel's story, and so: Ypres' eyes were that sort of green. She was also fairly tall, but then again she was a fair bit older than us. A fair bit older than him, even." They closed their eyes. "Her skin reminded me of tea, a little. All in all, she was fairly lovely, for a human. That said, I didn't exactly talk to her very much."

Frisk blinked. "But weren't you lonely?"

"I was." Chara's voice grew quiet. "But it was also around that time I was starting to recall my loathing of humans. I imagine Peloche being dead like me when I met her helped, but Ypres was very much alive when she crossed my path. I was not sure I could trust her."

Frisk shifted. "When did you start trying?"

Chara looked pensive for a moment. "I would think... around the time she started telling Toriel about what she actually wanted to do if she were called to serve. Anyone who sees a battlefield and believes they should take a corner of it to make a kitchen cannot possibly be completely horrible."

"Did you tell them the story?" Frisk was starting to smile again.

Chara blinked. "What story?"

"When you were talking before." Frisk nodded. "That's not how Chara usually talks..."

Chara coughed. "Fair enough. It is not, after all. Ypres knew I was there, but she left me to my own devices. I imagine she sensed how I felt." They paused. "I started telling the story the first night after she left Home. Reciting even that book from memory was... difficult, but Ypres needed someone to keep her company." They sighed.

Frisk turned over slowly. "What happened after you two left Home?"

Chara winced. "The expected, really. Monsters, fresh with eagerness, tried to set upon the human and win her soul. For the most part, I was able to help her evade them. Eventually, she was able to set up a little camp in the snowfields. But, before that..."

Frisk kept their silence, and Chara finally spoke in acid, trembling tones. "Well. She ended up doing her father proud."

"She didn't want what her father wanted." Frisk's voice was unwavering, this time.

"Damn straight." Chara took a long breath. "She panicked. Cornered, frightened, her discipline broke and she swung her pan as hard as she could. She didn't get it. Just how fragile monsters are... not until she'd seen it, _done_ it, herself." Another long breath. "She was horrified, of course. I was barely able to stop her from taking a nice, long leap. It took me a long time to calm her down enough to convince her I could help her undo what she had done. After that, she was... significantly more careful."

Frisk nodded. "And then she made camp?"

Chara sighed. "A little bit outside of Snowdin Village, yes. It was lucky she managed to learn as much as she did of fire magic, otherwise things could have ended poorly. Snowdin is a very cold place; that is why most of the fuzzier monsters live there despite how close it is to where Home was. And Ypres, well, she didn't exactly bring a camping bag along when she came here. But, she managed to make do. It got better when she plucked up enough courage to talk to some of the monsters in town and barter for the materials and labor to make a proper tent for herself."

"She talked to them?" Frisk seemed startled.

Chara blinked. "Well, naturally. That was the plan, after all. It wouldn't help to go straight for Asgore, Ypres had her own idea." They paused. "Which I did not actually explain. Hmn." Behind Frisk's lids, they looked almost sheepish. "To put it simply, Ypres was convinced that Asgore did not want war. To explain that, I need to backtrack, however."

Chara considered. "She never really mentioned her mother very often to Toriel. From what little she said, though, her mother was in a word passive. The sort of wife that a man like Ypres' father would consider 'perfect'." They spat the word. "She loved her birth mother, still, of course. She called Toriel her 'goat mother' for a reason, after all. But Toriel was wildly different from her birth mother, and she both admired her for this and took it as a sign that Asgore was not anything like her father. Which I suppose is a fair enough judgment of him."

Frisk nodded. "But if he doesn't, then why did he kill them?"

Chara shook their head. "Ypres' theory was simply that he had no choice. That the monsters wanted war too badly for him to go against their wishes. That Asgore would gladly recant his declaration of war, if only she could create an environment in which he could. That little campsite in the snowfields was the first step."

Frisk nodded. "So Ypres wanted to make friends...?"

"And, surprisingly, friends she made." Chara sighed. "From that little camp, she began making food and sharing meals. When she found a young monster who had hurt themself while playing in the fields, she took it upon herself to bandage them, and provide what healing she could. It... wasn't all that long before monsters would come out to her tent to share a hot meal or even just visit and talk beside the fire."

"Even though she was a human?" Frisk paused. "Or did they not know?"

"It's possible." Chara shrugged. "It had been a long time since I died, and Peloche died without very many monsters besides Toriel and Asgore ever seeing her. But, even if they did know... monsters are weird like that, sometimes."

Frisk shifted. "Wait, what about the monsters that attacked her?"

Chara paused. "At first, she started to doubt. But, after that incident, she changed a little. Even if the reset undid it, she did after all... well." They shook their head. "The night it happened, she told me something. 'If this feeling is the cross you bear for what he and I have done, there's no way Asgore could ever wish to keep going. I have to find a way he can lay down his sword.' She was so... certain. After all, surely Asgore must feel the same way after what he did to Peloche. She believed, wholeheartedly, that Asgore did not want to hurt anyone else, and that he needed her help so that he would never have to again."

Frisk tilted their head. "... She kinda talks like Chara..."

Chara chuckled. "She was poetic, not literary. There's a difference, though only a true wordsmith would be able to perceive that finest of lines." They hummed lightly. "Toriel never did get around to mentioning it, but Ypres was always one for quotations. Poetry and 'holy writ' alike; not that she believed that horseshit, but she loved using holy figures as a source of wisdom and philosophy. She had a parable for most any situation you could think of."

Frisk pondered. "So she was a storyteller?"

Chara chuckled. "That was my role. I often ended up talking long after Ypres had fallen asleep, so we often had to go back a ways in the story the next night. It took until our very last night in Snowdin before I finished even that story." They paused. "She did have one story to tell, that next morning, as we were breaking camp. A story about her town, in fact. Frisk, have you ever heard of the story of the Joyeaux Noel truce?"

Frisk shook their head. "What did Ypres tell you?"

Chara smiled. "It was a long time ago, in the first year of what the glory hawks call the Great War. The year was winding down, and Christmas was coming on. In the city of Ypres, where Europe divided and fought, and across the front elsewhere, soldiers laid down their arms. They traded messages, made way for each to bury their dead, allowed the prisoners to return to their own side... For a week and more, truce and openness between men who were at war, who were trained and ordered to kill one another. Ypres told me that in some places, when the day came, they even exchanged presents and left the trenches to celebrate the beloved holiday together." They paused. "Of course, their superiors did not particularly approve. Fraternization, they called it, and threatened those who would participate. Still, in Ypres and perhaps a few other places, they tried again the next year." A smirk curled across Chara's face. "Nobody seemed all that interested the next year, though. Apparently elsewhere, the soldiers had not nearly been so kind."

Frisk sighed. "So... what happened?"

Chara glanced away. "Well. Things had gone well, for weeks even. Eventually, Ypres thought that might be enough, and that she should find Asgore and show him what she had been able to do. She knew people all over Snowdin by that point, even if she never really went into town, and she was sure they had in turn told everyone else. Small towns are like that, as I'm sure you know as well as I." Chara's voice caught a bit. "So, she packed up her tent, left one last hot meal to be shared and a note that she was taking a trip, and made her way as quick as she could past Snowdin and onwards."

Frisk nodded. "Where did she go next?"

Chara shrugged. "Past Snowdin is Waterfall, but... she only spent a single night there. I think she was getting eager to meet Asgore and show him what she had managed to do. I suppose she had a right to be so excited. She managed to avoid meeting anyone other than old Gerson. He cautioned her - and he should know, he I think is _older_ than Asgore - but Ypres had resolved to gamble on what she had accomplished so far. The next morning, off she went to start traveling through Hotland. Travel there was... quite a bit slower. She had been living in Snowdin, after all; Hotland is far hotter than the name even implies. She made camp only a short way in."

Chara took a deep breath. "Even that short way was apparently enough. Or perhaps she was seen and tailed from the latter half of Waterfall. That night, who should appear near to her campsite but the Royal Guard. Their newest, most eager recruit charged in at their head, blood racing and on the verge of heatstroke and not waiting to listen to a single thing any _human_ had to say to her." A pause. "Other than that human offering the recruit some water, that is. She took it, then just sort of stared in confusion as Ypres fled. That part of Hotland is practically a puzzle itself, mind, a spinning steam vent and conveyors all over the place, but there's only one way out. And when she got there, she came face to... well, abdomen with King Asgore himself."

"Him tol." Frisk giggled slightly.

Chara spluttered. "Okay Frisk you need to stop that, I am the sole resident dispenser of dumb memes. Anyway. Yes. Asgore is _absurdly_ tall. Ypres was around fourteen when she died, and she still only came up to around his navel." They let out a long sigh. "She knew him on sight, of course. A huge, horned monster covered in white fur, with a golden crown and regal purple cloak? Who else could he be? With a smile on her face, she bowed and began to make her case, imploring him to speak to the residents of Snowdin. The war need not go on, she declared. The monsters of the Underground could understand that not all humans opposed them. That even she, a descendant of those who had fought in the war, could genuinely love and befriend monsters."

Behind Frisk's closed eyes, Chara closed their own. "The moment she had finished, Asgore rent her soul and her body arift in a single blow." They paused. "Incidentally, dying sucks. I realize that should go without saying. But even experiencing it from a position like mine is not pleasant. And resetting does nothing for it." A thin smile spread across their lips. "You'll take steps to avoid such... unpleasantries, will you not?"

Frisk nodded firmly. "So did you and Ypres reset?"

"A fair few times." Chara shook their head. "When we reset, though, we were at that campsite in Hotland. Close enough in time that she couldn't get to the exit before the recruit and the guards she'd brought with her had blocked the path. She didn't even get a chance to hand over her canteen before she was restrained and brought before Asgore. That time she didn't even get a chance to properly make her case before the guards silenced her and Asgore claimed her life again."

Chara let out a long sigh. "We tried again a handful of times. Leading the monsters on a chase around the vents and conveyors in hopes of getting around everyone, trying to duck past Asgore, trying to plead directly with the Royal Guard... no dice. Once Asgore arrived he would block off the way out. If Ypres tried to get around him, he would strike. If she tried to get out ahead of him arriving, either she ran smack into the others, ended up cornered, or was just plain too slow. But, she didn't give up."

Frisk curled up. "Then why did she stop?"

Chara winced. "... It was Asgore. Every time, his face was the last thing Ypres saw. Every time, it was more and more mournful. You would think that the time he heard her words and still made himself take her life would be the hardest, far more so than striking down a silent human who was not even pleading, would you not? Something else was at work, instead."

Frisk tensed. "But... monsters can't reset. They don't have determination like us."

Chara raised a finger. "Not entirely. Remember, Frisk, determination is what allows a human's soul to persist after death. It is the power that allows me to exist and to travel with you, and which keeps Peloche and Ypres and the others still present for Asgore to use when the time comes. Monsters lack significant determination; their soul is tied to their body and is destroyed when they turn to dust. However, there is one exception. The species known as 'boss monster', which Asgore belongs to, maintain their souls for a brief period after their death. Luckily, this was never exploited during the war; whether no boss monster lost their life, or no human was willing to take a monster's soul, I am not certain."

Frisk paled. "So... boss monsters have determination?"

Chara nodded. "Not near enough to reset, but they have more than most monsters. More than most monsters are even capable of possessing. Do you understand the implications of that, Frisk?"

Frisk was silent for a long time. Eventually, they whispered hesitantly, "He remembered?"

Chara's face fell. "... Yes, Frisk. Asgore remembered, somehow, on some level, that he had killed Ypres before. Multiple times. It was not long before Ypres realized this herself."

Frisk gasped. "So, she..." They trailed off.

"Resolved to accept her death?" Chara's voice was bitter. "She made sure to do everything as well as she could. She gave her canteen to the ailing recruit, she left a meal readied on the fire, and she evaded the Royal Guard long enough to pour out her heart to Asgore one last time. To beg him to accept that monsters could befriend humans, that he need not let their anger force him into war."

Their lips curled tightly. "Asgore let her finish again, then ran her through. The result was no different, no matter what her attempt, and she accepted that at last. To him, a whisper from his victim that she would no longer reset, and he could rest easy; this was the last time he would have to kill her. To her, a solemn apology from her murderer, and a heartfelt thanks from a king for the kindnesses she had done for his people. To her, an admonishment from her companion that she could bring an end to a war whose cause she had never truly understood. To me, a gentle acceptance, a single psalm, and a cordial farewell before our connection snapped and I was alone once again."

Frisk buried their face quietly in the pillow. "Chara? Why couldn't she stop him?"

Chara snorted. "Because she made the crucial error that my... that Asgore Dreemurr, the king of all monsters, could be pressured into leading a war and killing children over so petty a thing as _public opinion_. The root cause of the war is deeper than Ypres ever knew. Even you, Frisk, don't understand it yet." Their voice was tight, mocking. "Ypres never had a chance because she never understood _why_ Asgore would not recant. She was attempting to solve a problem that did not exist."

"... What did Asgore tell her, at the end?" Frisk held their hand gently to their heart, circling.

Chara took a long breath. "Ypres? The last words she ever heard before she died were Asgore's. 'Human. I am very sorry. But any human who falls into the Underground must die. My people need hope, human, and the time any human can give that hope to us monsters ended a long time ago.'"

Their words were dry, and Frisk shivered, circling even faster. "Do you want me to go to sleep, Chara?"

"... I would like that. In the morning, perhaps, I will be less recalcitrant." Chara's voice had turned husky, and their back was to Frisk when the child closed their eyes.

Frisk nodded. "Good night, Chara."

Chara glanced behind them. "Rest well, Frisk. Don't let your sleep be troubled on my account."

Frisk gave a little sigh, but turned on their side and nestled in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not a lot to say about Ypres that I didn't manage to squeeze either here or in the in-between part of the next child's story, really. A minor note though, her skin tone (Chara calls them "tea colored" but they're pretty not that far off from fair skin) is owed to a few Asian family members from three or four generations back. This doesn't change her appearance (eye shape, etc.) much other than the slight deepening of her skin.
> 
> The main thrust of what I have to say about Ypres is in her design, so skip the next two paragraphs if that doesn't interest you. A core part of her concept came about from me talking about gender stuff with a friend and him mentioning that a lot of people are what's apparently called "cis by default", people who just assume their gender matches their biology without ever really questioning that assumption. Ypres was born from the idea of a character who was cis by default but in the presence of Toriel and monsters in general (who are way more chill about gender) began to open up, consider and question, and eventually discover she was actually not a boy at all. (Of course, Ypres had additional pressure to not question, considering her father was a literal military official with Strong Opinions About Male Gender Roles that he hammered into Ypres' head her whole life, but even without that she wouldn't really be likely to question "am I really a boy?") Of course, she ended up developing a lot more; once I'd settled on using Ypres for her name the military connections were almost inevitable, and of course the pan and apron had always made it clear that the green soul child was a chef.
> 
> Everything Toriel and Chara mention about the actual city is true! A number of battles were fought between German and British forces in the Belgian city of Ypres during WWI, and the city was quite badly damaged in the fighting. During 1914, Ypres was one of the sites on the Allied-German front that participated in the famous Christmas Truce (which was portrayed in a film called Joyeaux Noel). The truce attempts in 1915 were much more half-hearted and sparse due to officers attempting to crack down on "fraternizing with the enemy", and in 1916 there was too much bad blood between the sides owing to the use of chemical gas weapons for there to be much of an attempt at an encore. In the latter half of 1917, at the Third Battle of Ypres (also called the Battle of Passchendaele), one of the first major rollouts of battlefield blood transfusion was carried out, as well as one of the earliest uses of blood banks and preserved blood in transfusion. Ypres, understandably, identifies far more with these events in her namesake city, even if her father gave that name to her because of his attachment to the "glorious" battles fought there. 
> 
> Ypres' reason for climbing Mt. Ebott ended up fitting more naturally into the early parts of the next chapter and will be brought up there, but it's worth mentioning that her invisible dysphoria caused her significant detachment as she grew older. She became more withdrawn, while her father grew all the stricter with her as her age grew into more hardened resistance to his grand plans for her future and more certainty in her own chosen role of camp cook.


	5. Bravery, Side A ~ The Scion of Heroes Seeks A Villain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additonal warnings for Bravery chapters: discussion of depression, disordered family situations, a momentary encounter with sexism (and karma), and (literal) death from grief/depression. Also, a brief brush with Frisk's sensory issues again. Side B warnings for most of the above, plus mention of homelessness and a brief brush with dehumanization and misgendering. Also Chara spends at least half of the chapter emotionally distraught and toeing the line of a breakdown due to being along for the ride to see Rhein's actions and to their own actions back at him, make of that what you will. (I have -no- idea what to call it honestly besides invoking the umbrella term of Bad Brain Weather.)

Frisk slept late that morning. When they were finally awake, they toddled out into the kitchen just in time to see Toriel gathering up her tools and a small basket. She looked up at Frisk from a half-written note and smiled, her eyes twinkling above her glasses. "I am glad to see you sleeping so well at last, my child. I was just about to go and take a walk around the Ruins. This place may be without a ruler, but it benefits from a person who can be called on to listen to the monsters' woes and mediate the occasional misunderstanding."

Frisk pointed to the tools. "And tend to the flowers?"

Toriel chuckled softly. "I have not been back there since the day you and I met, you know. They do not truly need very much care, but it... calms me, to have something to do out there." She paused. "And it helps to ensure that I take my exercise and ensure that no child has fallen into the Ruins, even if I would really rather not that day."

Frisk moved closer and gave Toriel's hand a squeeze. She smiled. "I have already made breakfast. Please, enjoy yourself. I shall not be very long. The Ruins are a small place, after all, when you have lived here as long as I have."

Frisk looked up at Toriel. "Can I come?"

Toriel gave a start. "You want to come with me? I am afraid it will likely be very boring for you, my child. Much of what the monsters of the Ruins need are things you will not be able to help them with, and the flowers need little tending. They are often just an excuse for this silly old lady to get her exercise, and visit."

Frisk gave another squeeze. "Please, Mom?"

Toriel drew Frisk close. "If you insist, my child. I must insist in turn that you at least bring along the breakfast I made, however!" She smiled. "That does remind me, in fact; I also need to gather some supplies for tonight's meal. But that is for later."

For the most part, the streets of what had once been Home were quiet and untouched, their pale and white stones mostly intact still and gently glowing crystals still shedding their light. There was a gentle loneliness to them; once, Toriel confirmed, many more monsters had lived here. Indeed, in the years following the Barrier's creation, every monster had lived in Home, fearing to draw too near where the caves reached the surface and humans could easily reach them. Toriel refused to elaborate on why that had changed, but few monsters had stayed here when the kingdom expanded to reach from Home all the way to Asgore's castle, which lay so close that one could reach the barrier in less than a minute's walk from his throne.

Here and there, though, monsters did remain, their homes marked with tiny magical lanterns that made the windows glow with cheery light. Toriel visited each of these in turn, greeting the residents with a bright smile and often a few small treats from her basket. Sometimes, one of them would tug at her robe, and she would kneel to listen silently to whatever they asked. A few instead brought out a fellow monster who had been hurt, and Toriel would swiftly minister to the injury. A handful of monsters had never yet seen Frisk before, and Toriel eagerly introduced the human child to them, sometimes with a polite, even-toned addition that Frisk was her guest and under her protection.

Other than an argument between a pair of Loox over who had seen a small, unpolished stone first (and therefore which of them should be allowed to keep and polish it), the few requests Toriel did receive were simple. Most of those who needed something from her seemed content just to tell her their troubles. Some allowed Frisk to listen, while at other times the child was asked for privacy and was quite happy to stand at a respectful distance and hum to themself quietly. Even so, Home had been the capital, once, and some monsters were content to live at a distance from their neighbors. It was nearly lunchtime when Frisk and Toriel finally rounded the corner of a tunnel and found a familiar patch of bright yellow flowers, illuminated by a gentle glow filtering through the Barrier above.

Toriel set down her basket just past the border where the greenery stopped. "I am going to have a look over the flowers," she said, as brisk as always. "If you are hungry, I did pack a lunch for you as well before we left."

"Aren't you hungry too?" Frisk took a seat nearby and let their leggings ride up enough for the leaves to tickle at their shins. "Taking care of everyone in the Ruins is hard, isn't it?"

Toriel smiled. "I am rather worn, but I will be all right. I prefer to be strict with myself when it comes to allowances, else I am sure I would often get little done despite seeming to work all day. I will take my own lunch when I have finished with this last task, I promise."

Frisk nodded, slinking carefully into the flowers a short way off from where Toriel was already setting to work. The flowers were hardy and straight, just barely tall enough for Frisk's nose to be level with the petals when they laid down. Toriel glanced back with a wistful chuckle, then turned back to tending the flowers, quietly talking herself through her work. Frisk began to hum quietly.

It was a few minutes after Frisk finally stood up that Toriel noticed. She tilted her head, watching as the child stared upwards at the gleam of the sun through the hole they had entered the Underground through. "Well, now. This is a rather nostalgic sight, is it not?" She moved to stand beside the human, taking their hand gently. "Are you a religious sort, my child?"

Frisk shook their head. "I'm not looking there. I was thinking about something you said last night." They turned to look up at her, their free hand stopping and falling to their side after a moment. "You said Ypres wondered if she belonged here."

Toriel nodded. "She did confide that to me once, yes. She wanted my opinion on the subject. When Ypres fell, she had been running away from home. That is why she had some supplies and clothes with her. But even before that, she told me, she wondered if she really belonged with humans. She had felt distant, even from her friends, for a long time before she ran away." She paused. "'And then, geitmama, I found that hole in the side of Mt. Ebott. Somehow, I knew it must lead to where the monsters lived. And I wondered to myself if that was why. Geitmama, even if I'm a human, do you think I belong among monsters like you instead?'"

Frisk nodded, and cocked their head for a long moment. "Maybe some people just fit better with monsters. Maybe that's why we're drawn to this mountain."

Toriel gave Frisk's shoulder a squeeze. "For what it is worth, my child, the opportunity to meet you has a worth beyond measure."

Frisk leaned against Toriel's side. "Um... it seems like people confide in you a lot, Mom."

Toriel blinked. "Well, that is the role I have chosen, after all. I am the caretaker of the Ruins, and of everyone in it."

Frisk grimaced. "It's not fair."

Toriel ran her claws gently through Frisk's hair. "It is my choice, fair or foul, my child. Once, it was even my duty. The monsters of the Ruins need to be able to seek comfort and counsel, and to feel loved and looked after. Even if none would claim it is my duty any longer, I will give them that need."

Frisk wrapped their arms around Toriel's middle. "Then who looks after Toriel?"

Toriel laid her hand on Frisk's back. "I have one person, actually. He is a great comfort to this silly old lady. Please, my child, calm your worries. I understand, truly, but I will be all right. I have my ways of keeping myself steady, and in truth, serving as everyone's counselor is one of them. It is something to do, a reason to be needed." She closed her eyes. "Else, what reason would I have to clamber out of bed on the days where I have none of my own?"

Frisk blinked. "I didn't see anyone today who seemed like they were listening to you..."

Toriel laughed gently. "You have not met him, I am afraid. He does not live here in the Ruins. Please, my dear child, you need not fear. You are not going to find me fallen down anytime soon."

Frisk went still. "Fallen down?"

Toriel nodded gravely, but then paused. "Goodness, I had not considered the associations... I am very sorry, my child. It is an expression we monsters use, for something that can only befall us. There is a reason it is so important that someone take care of the people who live here."

Toriel gently ushered Frisk to the side of the flowerbed, pressing a sandwich into their hands. "I have taught you, if I recall correctly, about the differences between humans and monsters. Because our souls are so deeply tied to our bodies, a monster whose heart falters will grow fragile and weak. It is not only physical harm that we must fear, however." She lowered her head. "If a monster loses heart and despairs, their body will begin to deteriorate. If they languish for too long, they sleep and do not wake, and eventually their body will turn to dust. We say that someone who has fallen asleep in this way has fallen down."

Frisk paused. "Is... that what happened at the last house?"

Toriel's face twisted in pain. At the last place they had visited, Toriel had gone inside alone, and returned despondent a few minutes later. "It... is, my child. There is nothing more I can do; occasionally a monster who has fallen down will rouse on their own will, but..."

Frisk tucked their chin down against their chest. "Can I go apologize when we go home?"

Toriel gathered them into her lap. "Have you done anything to that monster? Did you cause their heart to waver, or to worsen? What could you have need to apologize for?"

"... you didn't go see them for a long time." Frisk curled up even more.

Toriel shifted. The flat of her claw gently hooked under Frisk's chin and raised it until the child was looking up at her. "If I have failed in prioritizing you, Frisk, that is my failing and mine alone. It is no fault of yours that it had been slightly longer than usual since I had gone to visit. Do not ever apologize because you needed someone to take care of you, my child. Nothing is ever your fault simply by dint of you continuing to exist."

Frisk closed their eyes and clung tightly to Toriel. She smiled wearily. "Regrets over her fate and whether I could have changed it are for me to deal with, my child. As I always have." When Frisk looked up at last, her eyes were fixed at a point in the middle of the patch, where the flowers grew just a little taller than the others around them.

The two remained for a while after lunch, Frisk playing contentedly in the flowers as Toriel watched. For most of the rest of the day, and most of the day following, Frisk mingled with the monsters, listening to them talk and practicing their compliments (flirting, Chara insisted on calling it).

When they stood before Toriel the following night, their voice failed them utterly, and they soon clambered miserably into her arms once more. "Honeyed words and flattery will not sway me, my child," she said softly as they walked home. "Kindness forced or with a purpose in mind is not a virtue in the slightest. Ypres was not kind in order to fool me or convince me to let her pass, and to use kindness that way is simply not in your nature."

She gently settled Frisk into bed, and slipped out, soon returning with a plate and a steaming slice of pie. "Might I trouble you for your opinion on this?"

Frisk hesitated. They'd tried Toriel's snail pie once before, to rather poor results. Toriel sat gently beside them. "I have tried changing the method for this recipe. I have high hopes that I have avoided the things you are sensitive to." She smiled gently. "I understand if you do not wish to risk those sensations again, of course. Or if you simply do not have an... ap- _pie_ -tite."

Frisk burst into giggles, and took an overly-large forkful, cheeks slightly bulging when they took it in. Their eyes widened slightly. Before, the filling had been gaggingly thick, and the snails rubbery and squishing in a way that set their jaw on edge. This time, however, the pie filling was airy, almost like a very thick whipped cream, and when they bit down, their teeth met something crunchy for just an instant before sinking into soft, spongey delight.

Swallowing with some difficulty, Frisk flashed Toriel an enormous smile. "It worked!"

Toriel beamed, clasping her hands. "I am very glad of it." She shook her head. "Ypres taught me quite a lot about these things. She even had the temerity to very gently scold me for not having considered it before. Consistency, texture... She did not react the way you do, my child, but she knew these things well, and knew how they could affect both a meal and the person eating it."

Frisk was already hungrily digging into the pie, and Toriel laid a hand on their back gently. "Shall I fetch seconds before you ask me to tell you the next story?" She chuckled, slipping from the room and soon returning with a notably thicker slice.

Frisk looked up, happily taking the plate again. "Whose story do you want to tell next?"

Toriel laughed brightly. "In truth, the past two days have reminded me of more than one of the children who have passed through my life." She paused. "But I suppose it would be best to go in the proper order, would it not?"

Frisk nodded. "Then, who did you meet after Ypres?"

Toriel gave a slight sigh. "After Ypres, it was a young boy." She shook her head. "It had been quite a number of years since Ypres and I had parted ways. I was feeling... unwell, at the time, and had been neglecting the flower patch. It was winter, anyhow, though that does not mean as much here."

Frisk leaned gently against Toriel. "You can say if you didn't want to..."

Toriel gave a slight start. "I... suppose that was it. I certainly did not relish the thought of visiting the flowers only to find yet another human there." She shook her head. "The first I was made aware of another child having fallen down was being woken from my bed by a frantic rapping at my door. When I finally roused myself, in burst a Whimsun, frantically begging my assistance with a strange unfamiliar monster who had been bullying anyone who came across them."

Frisk paled a little. "Bullying?"

Toriel sighed. "Well. You know yourself that monsters can be... boisterous, towards someone they have never met yet. Sometimes in ways that they fail to realize can seem like an attempt to harm someone. This new child took their greeting in the worst possible way. When I realized what was happening, I rushed off as fast as I could, of course."

Frisk bit their lip. "But..."

Toriel shook her head. "It was about noon when I got there. The human had retreated to the flower patch under a hail of magic. Some of the monsters had an inkling that the newcomer was not a monster at all, and they were... growing rather zealous in facing down the 'invader'. I intervened, of course; the monsters obeyed me when I admonished them. And then, well..."

She chuckled. "The human looked me over and nodded. 'So, you've come out to face me yourself instead of sending your minions? I approve! So let's get to the bottom of this. The one who's responsible for everyone vanishing on this mountain, that's you, right?'" She shook her head. "I must admit, I was... taken aback. The child had just fallen down that hole, had he not? He took my silence for admission, however, and charged."

Frisk chewed lightly on their lip. "Did you hurt him?"

Toriel laughed gently. "You have seen my control firsthand, my dear, silly child. I was startled, true, but even so I was able to draw my flames to surround him and make him pause. I introduced myself as Toriel, the caretaker of the city of Home, and insisted I had nothing to do with what he charged me with. The children who had gone missing had fallen into the cavern and lived with me."

She paused, and shook her head. "That was about as far as I got before he realized I was deliberately avoiding letting my flames touch the flowers. He ducked down low, dove under and through, and came up charging at me again." She smiled. "So I simply caught him up in my arms and hoisted him lightly over my shoulder. I am no stranger to ways of keeping someone from hurting me, after all."

Frisk nodded. "Did he get punished?"

Toriel shook her head. "Please, a story is best told in order. Once I had caught him, I brought him to the other monsters and asked for those who had tried to greet him. He had been frightened, I explained, for humans do not use magic to greet each other. I asked them to apologize for scaring him, and insisted that he do so in turn for turning to violence against what had been an attempt to welcome him to Home. He was... surprisingly willing, though he did seem confused. I believe he said something like, 'Monsters say hello by blasting each other with their magical powers? Monsters are cool!' I insisted he stay the night with me, so that I might make sure he had not been badly hurt, and so that I could help him should another misunderstanding arise."

Frisk glanced to the side. "Did... did he hurt a lot of monsters?"

Toriel ruffled the child's hair gently. "Well... not too many. Once they gathered, he could not continue fighting properly. But, to be honest, I did in part use the healing as an excuse to privately speak to him about the fragility of monsters. He was... fairly despondent for the rest of the night."

She paused. "Truthfully, I cannot blame him. He had come to the Underground, as he told me that same night, looking for the 'villains' who lurked on Mount Ebott and were responsible for travelers disappearing. Apparently this was the popular rumor at the time, fueled by Peloche's and Ypres' disappearances within living memory. Instead, he found Home, and the monsters who live here."

Frisk nodded. "Were they mad?"

Toriel shook her head. "There were some who argued it was not wise to trust him, but most understood. He seemed utterly floored when two of the monsters demonstrated our manner of welcome for him. And when he apologized, his sheepish smile and plain, sincere words won most of them over right then and there." She chuckled. "I have to confess that secretly, I loved that smile of his. I know it is rather unkind of me to enjoy an expression that came from him feeling discomfort, but..."

Frisk shifted, and took another bite of pie, chewing contemplatively. "But he was cute?"

Toriel laughed. "I suppose that does sum up my reaction, yes. To be honest, he was a much-needed influence on the Underground in those days. Nobody particularly liked the thought of likely never seeing Ypres again, even if there were quite a few monsters who were not old enough to remember her." She paused. "I seem to be getting ahead of myself again. Let me step back, then, to the next morning. Where, at what I presumed to be the first spark of dawn, I was awakened by a strange noise, and opened my eyes to a pair of startling blue ones staring impatiently back at me. 'So. Now that you're up, can we start over?' he demanded, the moment he saw I was awake."

Frisk giggled. "So, he wasn't very much like Peloche."

Toriel put an arm lightly around Frisk. "Not in the slightest. I... well, I needed some prodding to properly wake, but when I understood what he wanted, I introduced myself in the same manner as I had before. He sat up straight, and introduced himself as 'Rhein, the brave hero blessed by the shining sun! ... in training, anyway.' Apparently that sort of rhetoric is popular among humans?"

Frisk tilted their head. "There's TV shows like that. Teams of heroes who fight bad guys and save the world."

Toriel shook her head. "Napstablook tells me their cousin has a show. Unfortunately, I have never been able to talk with them about it. There are not any televisions here, and they are very firm about this 'no spoilers' concept." She chuckled. "And while they can come and go from here just fine, being a ghost, I am afraid they cannot bring anything with them. Most of the things monsters use to learn about technology from land in Waterfall, not here."

Frisk nodded, and Toriel laughed. "Look at me, getting so far off topic. So, Rhein had introduced himself. Over the next few days, I would grow to know him better. He was quite willing to talk about himself, when I asked. His mother had been a firefighter, and he had plenty of stories of her racing into burning buildings to help as many people as possible escape alive. She was not as strong as most of the others, but they accepted her just the same once they knew her." She sighed. "But, one day, she went into a very old building where a fire had broken out, and some of the firefighters who went in there got very sick. I suppose it must have been something in the air. The others recovered soon, but she only got sicker."

Toriel shook her head. "Rhein was more aggressive than usual for a while after she died, understandably. He confessed to me he had gotten in trouble at school for beating up a group of kids. Apparently, they had dared to suggest his mother being a woman was the reason she had been the only one not to recover." She paused. "Not that I did not sympathize, of course, or conceal that fact, but I did take the opportunity to remind him that sorrow should not excuse violence. Rhein accepted it with surprising humility."

Frisk nodded. "What about his dad?"

Toriel sighed. "His father worked as a 'paramedic', Rhein told me, the most skilled class of medical first responders. He also sometimes worked as an aide in the hospital. When his mother died, Rhein's father threw himself into his work; he took on more and more shifts and later into the night. Between his grief and the stress of his work, he soon realized he simply was not capable of raising a child any longer. He would have to seek help from the rest of his family."

Frisk clambered into Toriel's lap, and she squeezed the child tightly against herself. "Rhein's grandfather was apparently the only one both capable and willing to take him in. He had been a rescue pilot, but by then had retired to spend the remainder of his days calmly enjoying life." She chuckled. "Not that he gave up the hero business, or so Rhein put it. But in a more subdued manner. Rhein told me with utter pride about him nearly missing a flight by stopping to help a stray cat stuck in a tree."

Frisk giggled. "Heroism!" They flung one arm wide; the other was nestled securely between themself and Toriel.

Toriel shook her head lightly. "His grandmother was a fairly well-liked artist who apparently could not handle the stress of being married to a hero, and lived a few towns over. They remained friends, at least, and apparently occasionally she would send him enough money to go on a trip. One of those trips came here, to the land surrounding Mount Ebott."

"And then he heard the rumors?" Frisk frowned.

Toriel chuckled. "And decided that he would personally defeat the culprit, naturally."

Frisk hummed. "So that's how he got here. What was Rhein like, though?"

Toriel leaned back slightly. "Well... he was certainly energetic. I was often tired, those days, and less strict with myself than perhaps I should have been. With Rhein, that simply was not possible; he was awake before the sun most days, and I would soon find myself awake along with him." She smiled. "But perhaps that was good for me in any case. He was an almost adorable, charming child, with hair the color of a sand dune and more wild than seafoam. Almost never still, always charging ahead... I had to scoop him up plenty of times just to get him to let me heal his latest bumps and scrapes."

She paused. "Rhein is one of the reasons I am so careful with your own marks, mind. I mistook some of his scars for injuries he had sustained in his fall, and he was very upset when he discovered they were gone. Apparently most of them had been inflicted when he had done something he was particularly proud of. Having a physical reminder was something he deeply valued." She shook her head. "And, in my zealousness, I wiped them clean."

Frisk gave her claw a squeeze. "But he forgave you."

Toriel blinked. "Yes. He did, as a matter of fact." She smiled. "Are my stories growing that predictable, my child? Well." She looked to the ceiling now, eyes unfocused. "After about a week of being woken by an excitable human child, and every day beginning with 'What are we gonna do today, Tori?', I finally forced myself to attend to something I had been putting off at the time."

"The flowers?" Frisk's brow was set. "Like today?"

"Indeed." Toriel gave a slight sigh. "Rhein insisted on coming, despite my assurances he would find little to enjoy about it. And, indeed, at first he did seem bored. Mind, he loved the idea, but there was not at first very much for him to do, either preparing or carrying out." She paused. "And then we reached the first house where the resident needed someone to talk to. They had no objection to Rhein listening, but as he did, I could see him fidgeting more and more, and his eyes, which were normally so focused, darted away again and again. When we had finished at last, he suddenly darted off into the streets while I was giving the monsters what I had brought."

She chuckled. "I tried to chase him down, of course, but in the end he was the one who found me. He gave me that beautiful grin of his and apologized. He said that hearing all that was a little too much for him out of nowhere, and that he would be better prepared next time." She paused. "Then he said something that startled me nearly out of my fur. 'You know something, Tori? You're real amazing. I think you might be as brave as my mom, even!'" She laughed. "And with that, off he ran. I had to run full-tilt to catch back up with him; it was lucky he had such a strong sense of direction and could remember the way he had come."

Frisk nodded. "So you finished visiting together? You and Rhein?"

Toriel ran a claw through Frisk's hair. "We did, yes. Rhein even insisted a few times on trying to support the monsters who were faltering." She rolled her eyes. "Even if the first time he tried, he gave us quite a start by offering to beat up the one who was bullying her. But he accepted it when she hastily insisted that she did not wish anything of the sort. There were more monsters here in those days, enough to still call this place Home, and they were more talkative, especially when they saw Rhein traveling alongside me. It was a long time before we reached the flowers. Rhein seemed to know almost immediately to give me space, as you did yesterday, but he seemed so impatient I had to pause to ask what the matter was."

She shook her head, smiling softly. "He confessed that, well, he was still startled by what we had just gone through. He wanted me to teach him how on earth to do it." She shook her head. "I was rather... unsuccessful, in that regard, but I did begin to bring him each time. He would grow so excited each time one of our excursions drew near, and soon he was close friends with quite a number of monsters. He even managed to give one or two of them support without needing me to interfere."

Frisk giggled. "He sounds fun."

Toriel laughed. "He was always so genuinely energetic and playful. We would often barely manage to finish dinner before both collapsing to sleep the night away, only to wake with the sun the next day." She shifted. "It was... exhausting, sometimes. But somehow in a way I never minded. I miss him, dearly; you have seen yourself how my sleep pattern changes on occasion, but Rhein would never have allowed me to get away with that. It was strange, though, how tightly he seemed to stick by my side. He rarely would go anywhere without me, and even when he was visiting with his friends he would always make certain I was awake and tell me where he would be. If I made a lunch for him, or something to share with his friends, he would always insist on me making the same for myself."

Frisk gave Toriel a tight squeeze. "I think I get it." They sighed. "So..."

Toriel nodded. "About a month or two after Rhein fell down, one of the monsters he knew also fell down." Her eyes attempted to treat the rug like an enemy bomber. "We went out to visit, and found their family preparing for the funeral. They told us that they had been planning to come and see us, when we arrived." She paused. "I have... not explained how monsters pay our respects, have I?"

Frisk shook their head. "We bury people when they die, but..."

Toriel nodded. "As I have said, a monster who has fallen down will soon turn to dust. This is the fate of any monster who dies. Monster funerals try their best to be joyful remembrances. We take the dust of the monster who has passed on and spread it over the things they loved most in their life. In this way, we believe their essence will live on, tied to those most beloved things."

Frisk shifted. "People, too?"

Toriel nodded. "Indeed, at times. A monster's favorite things can include people, after all. However, this is far more sparing. It is not uncommon for there to be one or two who will receive some of a monster's dust, but often only a small amount, and rarely more than two. It is very different, after all, to anchor an essence to a person, and to mingle their self with your own, than to simply linger in something precious to you."

She paused. "I recall, strangely, reading a theory on the subject once. It stated... 'The spiritual underpinnings of monster funerals may be, in fact, literally true. We may hypothesize this possibility based on the inextricable link between soul and physical form that exists solely within the ranks of monsters, as opposed to humans or any other as-yet unknown manner of biological order. Recalling that the soul and the body of a monster are so inextricably linked as to convert sorrow into fragility, to cause hesitance to blunt the force of an attack, and to render depression a potentially and directly lethal malady, and that the shattering of the soul and the dissolution of the body occur in an identical instant, we assert the possibility that the "dust" of a monster from whom life has fled is synonymous with the broken shards of their soul. Thus, anointing an object of affection with a monster's dust would, if our proposal is sound, literally imbue that object with a part of the remnant form of the monster's soul. We conclude by noting the possible difficulty that the behavior of Boss Monster souls presents to our hypothesis, and that if true in despite of this, it may well explain the reluctance shown specifically to application of the dust to a person who the deceased held deep affection and fondness for in life.'"

Frisk nodded slowly. "... Monsters have scientists?"

Toriel cleared her throat, taking a slow breath. "Why, yes. In particular, there is always a Royal Scientist who serves as the chief researcher for all the kingdom's needs." She tilted her head. "In truth, I cannot recall who claimed that theory. When I think of their name, all my mind can retrieve is a vague allusion to flowers."

Frisk looked up, gently touching one of Toriel's horns. "Were they coming to see Rhein, too?"

Toriel sighed. "I have been anointed, as he put it, at monster funerals quite a number of times. Sometimes I wonder, when I succumb myself, how much of what remains will be my own dust, and how much will be others'." After a moment, she clapped her hands to her mouth. "Please, my child, forgive me for such... morbidity. Perhaps I am not as grounded as I had believed." Another long moment passed, and she pulled Frisk close. "But, yes. They wanted to spread some of his dust on Rhein as well. They told us how he had looked forward to Rhein's visits, and would talk at length after he and I had left. When Rhein protested that he must have screwed up somehow, they insisted he had done wonderfully. He had been falling down for a long time, and anyone who knew him could see that Rhein's friendship had slowed that greatly."

Frisk's eyes were downcast. "Did he let them?"

Toriel nodded. "A single streak, over his left arm and one of the fingerless gloves he always wore. Once they were done, he ordered me to make sure I finished my rounds and then bolted back in the direction of my house." She paused. "I was so startled by his command that I did as he asked. When I finally returned, he had already prepared a pack, and tied around his head was a kerchief I had not seen him wearing since our first meeting. It was bright orange, like fire, and he had drawn something he called 'abs' on them." She paused, cocking her head.

Frisk lifted their sweater. "When you get really strong, your muscles on your belly get tight." They nodded, tracing a shape on their midriff. "That shape is supposed to mean you're really powerful."

Toriel sighed. "I knew what he intended, but when I tried to convince him to stop, he ran for the tunnel, and the door. He did not stop until he reached it, far ahead of me. When I drew close, he turned and told me to let him go. Behind that door was the reason I had sealed it, he reasoned, and he was going to put an end to my fears so that nobody else would have to fall down, sealed away in hiding."

Frisk blinked. "But the door was sealed because..."

Toriel shook her head. "He knew about Asgore. In pieces, he had drawn the story out of me over our time together. To him, the threat that Asgore might come and harm the humans who had fallen down was the reason I kept it shuttered. But, in turn, he argued that was hurting us all. Cooped up in this space that once bustled with life was slowly making everyone's hearts falter. I... could not argue."

Toriel gave a long sigh. "And then... he turned to me, and he spoke, his eyes wild with determination. 'Tori, listen. I know I was wrong before, and I can't ever make that right, but this time I know who I'm supposed to be fighting! I'm not good at this caretaker thing like you are. All I'm really good at is punching things. So you've gotta stay here, and keep everyone afloat for me, okay? And I'll go put a stop to what I came here to put a stop to, and then I'll be back! Even if I've gotta bust down this door myself!' He was already opening the door as he spoke, and I... I could not bring myself to run after him." She paused. "I found myself calling out, begging Rhein not to leave. To stay with me, and everyone else who loved him."

She smiled weakly. "He looked back, and gave me that sheepish grin one last time. 'Thanks for reminding me, I gotta do something about that barrier thing too! Grampa is probably worried about me by now. He'll be really happy to meet you, I bet!'" She closed her eyes. "At the last, as the door closed, I found myself begging Rhein not to kill Asgore. Even he should not have to pay his life to stop this war. Rhein looked back and gave me a thumbs-up. And then... then he was gone."

Frisk nestled in against Toriel, reaching down to scoop up the last bit of pie. "You did what he asked," they said, finally.

Toriel nodded. "I did. But, as you have seen yourself, the door still stands. Rhein, too, never returned. And here I am, still, somehow managing to move along." She shook her head. "But I suppose that, in part, is best left to the next story."

Frisk carefully slid under the covers. "Mom? Do you want to stop telling me stories? You don't have to."

Toriel shook her head slowly. "I am all right, my child. It is difficult, but I wish to continue." She smiled. "Perhaps it is a remembrance of my own. Humans leave no dust to spread on that which they love, so all I have are these stories to relay to you, that their memory continues."

Frisk sighed. "I wish I could have met them."

Toriel closed her eyes for a long moment. "Would that you could have," she finally said. "Would that Asgore had never declared war, or that they had stayed here, with me... and been here with me to greet you the day I found you..." She sighed. "But I suppose that, too, is just this silly old lady's selfishness."

Frisk peeked out from the blankets. "Mom? Rhein was right, you know."

Toriel leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to their forehead. "Part of me will always know that, deep down. Rhein made sure of that, even if I have my days when it is difficult to recall. But thank you for the reminder, my child." She rose gently.

Frisk hummed. "Get some sleep, Mom."

Toriel laughed. "You as well, dear." With a click, the lights went out, and the door shut.


	6. Bravery, Side B ~ The Hero of Monsters Protects the Villain

"But the place we are in now is just too dreadful. It is not a place where two people can create a life together."

Frisk turned on their side as Chara's voice rang in their ears. Their companion's presence was stronger tonight; even without their eyes closed, they could dimly see a figure standing beside their bed, back towards them and arms crossed. "Isn't that why Rhein went?"

Chara stiffened. Their fingers crushed against the weave of their green sweater, leaving creases across the wide yellow band around their chest. "What?" Their head jerked slightly. "Want to know how many he ended up killing? Or maybe you just want the finer details of how he died?" A dry chuckle escaped them. "You are wracked with a perverted morbidity, Frisk."

Frisk puffed their cheeks. "I want to know what happened to Rhein."

Chara laughed again. "Toriel was far too nice to say so, but you picked up on it too, did you not? Not all of the monsters who went out to greet the strange new monster went home alive. Not all, indeed." They twitched slightly. "Are you really going to force me to tell you what little remains of this story? It is not as if he deserves to have it told. He did not learn his lesson from the first time, no matter what Toriel convinces herself of."

Frisk stiffened. "I can take it. Please."

Chara grew even more tense. "What is there to say? The expected happened. He passed the door, monsters found him, he fought back. Not all of them survived. Eventually he was caught and brought before the king, and executed for his crimes." They shifted. "That all?"

Frisk considered. "He was captured, but then brought to the king? Not just killed right there?"

Chara shook their head. "... Allow me to start a little further back. If you intent to persist in this farce." Their fingers kneaded back and forth across their sweater's stripe. "Rhein was beset by monsters almost the moment he passed the door. I suppose the sentry was not so lazy in those days. He fought back, of course, as most humans would." They chuckled. "Present company on most days excepted."

Frisk glanced down, and Chara shook their head. "I was along for the ride too, of course, but I never spoke to him. I hated him from the start, and I did not feel like giving him cause to think he could befriend someone like me. Our only interaction was a silent struggle."

"What struggle?" Frisk edged a little closer.

"Each time he killed a monster, whether on the first day or after passing the door, I would try and reset us. And Rhein would, without ever knowing I was there, resist and stop me. Even though a monster had just died. Even though we could just go back and avoid it." Chara's voice scratched as they spoke, forced to pass their lips. "He killed monsters, Frisk. He made the choice not to undo it."

Frisk's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Chara coughed. "Well. In truth, he never went specifically for the kill. But, well... if they kept coming at him, they were villains, right? And there is no need to feel guilty for the act of killing villains." They trembled. "If they refused to yield... if they kept attacking even when he had worn them down... he went right on ahead."

Frisk sighed. "Because he was a hero?"

Chara snorted. "Now you comprehend. Must be nice, really, being someone like that. Not a care in the world as to why you fight, only the certainty that yours is the right. Just you and your world-crushing ego. A Rider cares not who he hurts or what he does, only that 'justice is served'."

Frisk frowned. "But... is that really Rhein?"

Chara paused. "Well. I suppose it is rare that a Rider would offer the enemy the chance to turn tail." They tensed further. "But the Snowdin Canine Unit ranks are thinner for his efforts. Pretending to be honorable will never change that." They sighed. "When he reached Snowdin proper, though, at the edge of the town, his journey came to an end. There she was. The newest member and rising star of the Royal Guard, still wearing the canteen Ypres had given her at her side."

Frisk's eyes widened. "The recruit?"

Chara nodded. "The very same. She'd hit her growth spurt, so suddenly Rhein was facing almost six feet of blue-scaled fish monster, with yellow eyes and armor spun out of pure magic." They paused. "And with a big red ponytail despite not having even a strand of hair anywhere else on her head."

Frisk nodded. "So they fought?"

Chara shrugged. "What else could they do? After the usual exchange of hot-blooded ideals, anyway." They chuckled. "Really, the two were practically made for each other. A brat trying to be a hero for the Ruins, and a child rising to be the hero of the Underground. She did not care either, and really, why should she have? All she needed to know was that a human was here, killing monsters. People she knew were dying. And monsters would need seven, not just Peloche's and Ypres' souls."

Chara's fingers tightened on their sweater again. "All told, it was not an unenjoyable fight. Rhein is not all talk, at least. But, assuming her words were not idle boasting, his opponent was trained by Asgore himself. He never had a chance." They glanced back, for a moment, red eyes trembling. "When she finally got a hit in, Rhein's right arm was left useless from just one blow. She even shredded his glove. After that, he pointed to his left arm and surrendered."

Frisk considered. "Because of the dust?"

Chara turned away again. "He never actually used that arm when he passed the door, you know. Just kept using his worse one, until Undyne sliced it open. When the recruit saw the streak still fresh on his arm, she lowered her spear and demanded that Rhein follow her to be judged by the king."

Frisk nodded. "So she brought him to Asgore?"

"Straight to the throne room." Chara shrugged. "The Underground isn't _that_ big, and it helps there's a kindly monster of indeterminate gender who can get you anywhere from Snowdin to the Royal Laboratories just inside Hotland within... I'd say an hour or so? Rhein's captor used the time to bandage up his injured arm and ask him about the dust on his other arm. I suppose she wanted him to look presentable, or something absurd like that." They shook their head. "She even exchanged introductions. Have I mentioned yet that monsters are weird?"

Frisk giggled. "I'm not sure." They shifted. "What was her name?"

Chara straightened a little. "Oh! Well, her name was Undyne. By the time all that was done, they were in Hotland." They paused. "I actually can't tell you a lot about Hotland. That is the most innovative part of the Underground; even in Rhein's day, it was very different from when I was alive. There were elevators, for one thing; Undyne and Rhein rode one up to the top level, then another through the Core to New Home, and another the rest of the way to the palace. All I really know is that it's the site for most of the Royal Scientist's research, so it changes frequently. The Core was definitely not completed before I died."

Frisk nodded. "What about the rest?"

Chara shrugged. "I shall save Waterfall for a more appropriate story. And if you've seen Home, you've seen New Home, and I do mean that literally." They sighed. "So. There they stood, in the throne room, before King Asgore Dreemurr."

Frisk shifted. "What's he like, anyway?"

Chara glanced back. "Gathering intel before the inevitable? A sound strategy, tactician." They twitched. "... Sorry. That was unworthy. Asgore is... I believe I said already he is frankly enormous. You and I could comfortably ride on his shoulders, simultaneously, even if he did not have his cloak on. Most of his fur is white, but his hair and his long, gorgeous beard are a more vibrant yellow than Ypres' or even Rhein's hair. His horns are long, too, with a gentle, majestic curve." They pressed the heels of their palms against their eyes. "If I strain... I feel as if I held them before, to keep myself safe and steady on his back."

Frisk let their hand hover in Chara's peripheral vision for a long moment before laying it where the other child's shoulder seemed to be. "Do you remember anything else about him?"

Chara's shoulders slumped. "Little enough. He shared my fondness for tea... I think? And I can with certainty relate his love of gardening. When Rhein and I entered in Undyne's wake, we found that he had given over nearly the entire room to his flowers. Beautiful yellow flowers, the very same species as you saw yesterday with Toriel, when you visited... when you tagged along with her."

Frisk opened their mouth to ask a question, but Chara, without turning around, placed a finger to their lips. "I am not in a fit state of mind to elucidate to you upon golden flowers, Frisk." they said coldly. "Not tonight. Tomorrow night is likely to have a similar outlook." They cleared their throat. "Asgore was caught rather off guard by Undyne's entrance. She had sent word ahead, so he knew, but to be suddenly addressed in his own throne room by Undyne, with a human child in tow..." They chuckled. "He had not even donned his armor. I rather vividly recall him wearing a ludicrously garish old pink sweater at least a size too large for even his great frame."

Frisk squeezed their hand around where Chara's shoulder would be. "Did he have any other gardens?"

Chara raised a finger. "Now is not the time for deflection, Frisk. But yes, he does, or at least I feel certain of that. Rhein, you see, never saw any other part of the palace."

Frisk winced. "So Asgore did it there?"

Chara's fingers left creases in their sweater. "Asgore did nothing. When he recovered from his shock, he enumerated Rhein's crimes, and demanded satisfaction. Rhein countered that he had not come here to kill monsters, and only acted in his own defense. Then _he_ challenged Asgore on the subject of Home. After all, Asgore was king of _all_ monsters."

They let out a long sigh. "Asgore could only offer the pitiful rebuttal that the caretaker of Home had barred the way in order to defend humans in defiance of his command. As if any command _he_ made could cow her. Because of this, she had made it impossible for him to carry out his duty. He could do nothing for the monsters of Home, for their own caretaker had cut them off from their king and from their hope." Another long sigh. "And Rhein? He charged Asgore with killing Peloche and Ypres, who unlike him had never harmed a monster. And Asgore had nothing he could say except to repeat his vague talk of hope."

Frisk shifted. "Hope? I know you mean he was talking about falling down, but..."

Chara began to laugh. In between peals, Frisk could hear them saying, "Is it not absolutely darling? Monsters, the kind beings, the put upon, the victims in the war, hitching their hopes on the murder of seven children? On the promise of a new war where humans will die by the droves?"

Frisk reached out for a long moment before forcing their arms away. "Chara... maybe just tell me the ending..."

Chara clutched themself even tighter, their laughter slowly petering out. "Rhein was furious. 'What about Tori's hope?' he demanded. 'What about all the monsters who could leave but won't? The ones who wanna stay with her? I won't let you just write them off! I came here to put a stop to the one making everyone disappear, and from where I'm standing, that's you!'" They chuckled hoarsely. "Asgore turned white as a sheet as he heard that name. Rhein pushed Undyne away and stood up. 'You're hurting every monster I know with this dumb war. My friend's dead because of you. Tori asked me to promise not to kill you, but if I can't get you to see reason, I'll just have to force you to stop!'"

They began to laugh again, a dry chuckle barking from their throat every few seconds. "Asgore did not move a muscle. I am certain he could not, at that point. He did not summon his armor, or even draw his trident."

Frisk tensed. "But... but Rhein is dead, isn't he?"

Chara threw back their head and howled with laughter. "Luckily for the king of all monsters, a certain recruit in the Royal Guard was still there. She realized just in time. Moments before Rhein would have reached Asgore, she ran him cleanly through with her spear."

Frisk winced. "So... Undyne killed him the first time?"

"The first, and only." Chara finally turned around. Their face had gone even paler than usual, cheeks standing out a stark red in the dim light. Their eyes were wide and trembling, and their thin smile split from cheek to cheek. "Rhein never got to reset, Frisk. I stopped him. I summoned up all my determination, and I broke his power. I shattered his save point. He, of all people, would not be allowed to torment Asgore with dying in front of him, or at his hand, again and again." They were giggling still. "I killed him, Frisk. Held him down while Undyne ripped his soul right out of his body to stick in Asgore's trophy room."

Frisk threw off the covers and scooted out of bed, landing just in front of Chara, arms spread wide. And waited. Their own eyes peered with concern out from under their sleepy lids, warm loam gazing into shivering garnet.

Slowly, Chara lowered their head and turned away. "Not tonight, Frisk."

Frisk immediately lowered their arms. "Did he know?"

Chara coughed. "I need to correct myself, actually. I did speak to him, after he died. I introduced myself, face to face. The boy who would be the hero of the Ruins, and the demon who dogged his steps. Truly, a fated meeting."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "You're not a demon."

Chara chuckled. "That's what the kids like him called me, Frisk. The demon that comes when you call _its_ name." They raised a finger. "See, humans have a fascinating defense mechanism. Whenever you feel bad about hating someone, why, you just make them into something which is perfectly acceptable to hate. Villain, minion, thief, demon... Why beat around the bush? Rhein was the same as them, it was only proper I introduce myself the same way."

Frisk sighed. "Is Rhein really like them? Would any of them fight Asgore for Mom's sake?"

Chara slowly looked back. "He would have done what they did. I was a thief, a demon child who would rather stab someone than hold their hand."

"... you just don't like holding hands much. Except his." Frisk had their own hand extended.

Chara laughed, swatting their own hand at Frisk's. "Well, I cannot deny that."

Frisk shook their head. "Do you really think Rhein would have hurt you?"

Chara was clutching their sides again by now. "I... how could he not? I was a villain, he was a hero. That's what heroes do, Frisk. They ride down anyone in their way in the name of justice and nobility." They paused. "Which makes it all the more amusing that... hah, no, that's another story entirely."

Frisk drew close, silently. Eventually, Chara gave a long sigh, and closed their eyes. "I suppose it depends. If Rhein learned about me from them? If he saw me stealing what I needed to live, and to keep my mind hale? I would get slugged a few times, almost definitely. But, if he really..." Their eyes fluttered open. "Maybe he would have fought for me. If he knew I was..."

Frisk winced. "Like me?"

Chara caught their breath. "There I go again. I was... let us not doll it up, Frisk. I was homeless. Unwanted. And I hated them. I stole food and whatever else I thought I needed with a genuine smile on my face. I lived on rooftops and attacked anyone who threatened me. How would Rhein have seen anything but that? Why would he protect me?"

Frisk paused. "What if he saw nobody else would?"

Chara let their shoulders slump once again. "You know what the hell of it is, Frisk? You're damned right and I know damned well you are. But, thinking of Rhein like that... I just can't."

Frisk nodded. "I understand. Rhein makes you think of him, right?"

Chara choked for a moment. "Fuck. You had to _say_ it, didn't you?" They reached out with both hands, closing ghostly fingers around Frisk's still-outstretched hand. " _He_ wouldn't have killed for me, though." Another dry chuckle escaped their smiling lips. "That's why I'm here, after all."

Frisk nodded. "I bet he would've beaten up anyone who bullied you, though."

"It's a nice thought." Chara shook their head. "If he knew me, Rhein would have too. I think. Do you think I'm just bitter I only met him after I was already out of their reach?"

Frisk shifted their fingers gently against Chara's. "I think you're mad that someone so similar to him ended up killing monsters."

"There's a world of difference between 'I killed' and 'I ended up killing.' I can't _bear_ people who can't make that distinction." Chara let out a weird, almost puffing laugh entirely unlike their own. "References you probably don't get aside, you're probably right. Or maybe it's just easier to hate him."

Frisk sighed. "Chara, what do you really think of Rhein?"

Chara closed their eyes slowly again. "He was... good for Toriel. She downplayed things, but she was falling apart from trying to keep everyone afloat. He brought some energy back into her life." They snorted. "Even if she tended to blow every spoon she had on him, and then some. That's why he really stuck so close by her, though. He... knew the signs from his father. Rhein wanted to make extra sure that Toriel was getting through the day." They sighed. "How can someone so _good_ kill monsters, Frisk? How can someone like him decide he _shouldn't_ go back after that? He killed _dogs_ , for fuck's sake..."

Frisk shook their head. "Isn't Asgore a good person? Isn't Undyne?" They shivered. "Toriel uses her fire on me, but she's still good, right?"

Chara lowered their head. "I suppose I never mentioned our conversation. After I introduced myself, Rhein dismissed the idea I could be a demon. He'd known _something_ was following him, trying to make him reset, but he'd thought he was just losing his resolve. He fed me some noble, ridiculous line about how if he let himself do that, he'd be acting like he was above consequences." They chuckled weakly. "When I told him what I planned... well. 'You would not allow me to use my determination to save those monsters whose dust is on your conscience. Why should I allow you to preserve your own life with your own?' He hung his head in shame when I told him that. 'Can I convince you otherwise? I know I probably missed the mark again, but I still want to be a hero. To do something right by Tori.'"

Chara's eyes flickered open. "I told him the only way I would allow that would be to go back to the beginning, and this time, never leave her side. He could not accept that. That place was just too dreadful. It was no place for a mother and her child to live a life in. And so, Rhein died."

Frisk lowered their head. "Is it still?"

Chara bit their lip. "Maybe. Maybe not. You have seemed content enough, these past weeks. I want out, but only you can really know if you could live the rest of your life here with her. Besides, my reason to leave isn't a very happy one."

Frisk gently clambered back into bed. "Thank you, Chara. I know that was awful." They glanced down at their hand. "And thanks for that, too."

Chara rolled their eyes. "Frisk. I can't feel it anyway when you touch me. Not properly, at least. I know you think it's sweet, but..." They sighed. "Still not getting a hug from me, flirting menace."

Frisk stuck out their tongue. "I'll get you into my arms one of these days."

Chara's laugh was quieter this time. "You're weird. Like, even weirder than monsters are. I'm _dead_ , Frisk. The only way you're holding me is if you exhume me, and I somehow think that is outside the circle of even your weirdness."

Frisk shifted a little, bundling down under the covers. "Chara? Do you really hate Rhein?"

Chara's eyes were firm. "I think... I do not exactly _hate_ him. But I am still angry, even all these years later. He killed monsters, and I had to watch and find myself unable to make him take it back. I may not ever forgive him, Frisk."

Frisk nodded. "That's okay. I don't think she's forgiven _him_ either."

Chara blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Frisk stifled a giggle with their pillow. "Oh, I was just thinking." Their eyes twinkled. "Every time we talk, you seem more like Mom."

Chara made a noise almost identical to the one they would have made if Frisk had trodden on their non-existent tail. "Good _night_ , Frisk."

Frisk's smile would have probably literally illuminated the room if it weren't doused beneath the blankets. "Night, Chara~"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orange soul trivia time!  
> ... lmao how did these get so long skim or skip as you like it's mostly just me musing behind the curtain anyway
> 
> Rhein began, concept-wise, as just a brave and headstrong child with a genuine desire to protect people and a major-league hero complex, fighting monsters who attacked him on the assumption that they were in league with the "bad guys". Admittedly, this ended up toned down in the end. When he passed the door, the monsters Rhein killed fell into one of two categories: monsters who refused to back down and continued attempting to kill him even when at death's door themselves, or monsters Rhein genuinely swung too hard at (misjudging either his attack power or their remaining HP).  
> That said, Rhein's still the sort of kid who can be duped into fighting for the wrong side, and going all-out for it, but at the same time will turn with just as much vehemence on his former "allies" if someone can catch up to him and get him to understand. He's not an idiot, just driven and headstrong. Honestly, he still very much prefers it when the villain is just someone he can be unequivocably against. Surprising nobody, he's a gigantic sentai/Rider fan, though he prefers the latter a bit because edgy not-quite-teen (and just in general because sentai usually has a strong comedy streak). Also surprising nobody, he's kind of a chuuni. His fight with Undyne almost certainly involved some (read: nothing but) hot-blooded screaming of attack names. I very much enjoyed setting up the parallels between Rhein and Undyne in this one, although the parallels between him and _both_ of the royal children are important to me as well. Incidentally, this was the incident for which Undyne was made Captain in this canon.  
>  Rhein's name is taken from the Sweedish chemist Arrhenius, for whom chemistry named a law that governs the rate at which a chemical reaction proceeds (in particular, the rate increases with increasing temperature towards the theoretical maximum). As the orange soul's associated virtue is "bravery", chemistry immediately came to mind as the discipline from which his name should be drawn. It can also be rearranged to (the river) Rhine, hence his primarily Swiss extraction. His blonde/blue hair/eyes combo is a nod to his name's origins, plus I wanted _someone_ on the cast to have blue eyes since I roll with brown instead of blue for Frisk.  
>  Chara's line about the difference between "killing" and "ending up killing" essentially is about the difference between active acknowledgement and passive deflection (i.e. "I killed that person" vs. "I didn't set out to kill them, it just sort of ended up that way!"). The weird puffing laugh is me not wanting to actually write Chara going "upupupupu" and instead writing how Frisk perceived that laugh; it and the previous dialogue are an extended reference to Danganronpa. Chara also gets in yet another Kitchen reference, because Chara.  
> Minor note: the part about what "fallen down" means is obviously not entirely canon; Alphys never actaully explains in her notes what that means and nobody brings it up. But this is an idea I've been playing with myself, and seeing it brought up in a series of essays on tumblr by katt (happikattwuzheere) heartened me enough to try it out here as well (incidentally go check out those essays; there is one for each of the six main monsters and they are all very great!!!) The long-winded proposal Toriel recites is partially just me toying around with one of my own ideas and partly sneaking in an excuse for me to bring out my voice for a certain other character again, it's not really canon so much as extrapolating -from- canon.


	7. Perseverance, Side A ~ Mx. Explorer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Reiterating the fic's depression tag here, both halves of this chapter are among the primary reasons I'm using that tag. In particular, the depression here manifests mostly as disordered sleep patterns, poor energy budgeting, and general apathy/dysthmia. There is also a brief (oblique) suicide mention. Side B also has warnings for brief mention of misgendering and discussion/depiction of chronic physical illness.  
> Also, bonus warning for cis author trying to craft a character of Kythra's particular gender; do not hold back if I need to be bopped because of Just Not Getting It!

Frisk could not bring themself to try and make Toriel give way by force. Instead, the next night, they stood firm when her flames licked out at them, doing their best to keep focused and standing. When the flames started to part, Frisk rushed forward, diving to the ground and trying to roll beneath them.

Instead, they found themself rolling through. A completely different sort of pain filled Frisk's being, and the sight of Toriel's aghast face almost instantly winked out.

After a long moment of agonizing nothingness, a deep, desperate voice rumbled in their unhearing ears. It was a voice Frisk had never heard before. "You cannot give up just yet! Chara! Stay determined!"

When Frisk opened their eyes again, a collage of red shapes covered everything. Their hands were surrounded by dry, rough surfaces that rolled smooth under their rubbing fingers, and every movement of their slowly recovering body drew a sweet, familiar crinkling that made their ears almost prick up.

Frisk sat slowly up in the leaf pile, whimpering just slightly. "Happy?" a voice hissed in their ear. "You do recall our... conversation on resetting and remembrance, yes?"

Frisk wilted. "I thought I could duck under. Maybe if I showed Mom I was brave like Rhein..."

The voice grew more tense. "Rhein only had space because Toriel did not want to scorch the flowers. And considering Rhein had the shortest period of survival after leaving the Ruins..."

Frisk sighed. "Besides, you're the brave one, Chara."

Chara paused. "... you moron. I'm a coward. Even you should know that doing what I did makes me the worst kind of coward."

Frisk closed their eyes, sinking wearily back into the leaves with their fist gently circling on their chest. "You haven't run away from me, Chara."

"... do that again, and I will." Chara's voice fell silent. It was nearly an hour before Toriel found Frisk laying there, still circling, and carried the child gently home.

The next morning, Frisk stole carefully into Toriel's room and clambered up on the bed beside her. When they reached out to touch her shoulder, her eyes flicked open and she smiled. "I am already awake, my child. But thank you."

Frisk shifted. "I was thinking about Rhein."

Toriel nodded. "I know." She reached out and drew Frisk close. "Rhein fell down at a difficult time for me. His efforts to ensure I woke every day at a reasonable hour and his praise of my caretaking duties were invaluable to my own well-being." She shook her head. "Truthfully, I had rarely considered tending to the monsters of Home in that sort of light. It was something I did as a matter of rote. I had forgotten that it had become rote specifically because it was something they needed, and even more importantly, something that helped them and improved their lives."

Frisk beamed. "Mom is a hero to everyone here."

Toriel laughed. "Rhein would prompt the monsters to tell me just that, from time to time. But, now, speaking of taking care." She leaned in close, and sighed. "Have you been sleeping poorly again, my child?"

Frisk glanced down. "I... had a nightmare."

Toriel nodded. "I thought as much. Your eyes look much different when you are exhausted and trying to keep them open, rather than letting your eyelids rest naturally low." She shifted carefully. "In that case, I think we will spend the morning tending to you. My plans for us for today do not involve anyone else, so we may arrange them as needed." She smiled. "So I shall carry you somewhere you can relax, and I will read to you while you nap. I will wake you in time for lunch, and then we can continue with lessons in the afternoon instead, when you are properly rested."

Frisk wriggled slightly in Toriel's arms. "Can I ride on your back?"

Toriel turned. "You must promise to be very careful and hold tightly to me. And if I do not stoop far enough you must warn me. All right?"

Frisk scrambled up Toriel's back, settling atop her shoulders and taking a firm grip on the short horns that poked through her fur. They took snug hold of the smooth, rounded surface, and shouted, "Ready!"

Toriel giggled softly as she rose to her feet; Frisk beamed at just how high up they were off of the ground. As Toriel slipped carefully under the door, ducking just enough to make sure they wouldn't hit their head on the jamb, Frisk turned to look ahead, leaning in close to Toriel's fur.

_The fur was soft under their chin, incredibly so. Before their eyes, so wonderfully close, a vibrant golden mane spread out, pooling around the two long, sturdy horns their scarred hands clung to with a fear-defying delight. Leaning just a little more forward, they could see the crown nestled just below where the gold gave way to pearl, admiring the way it curled around the upper parts of his skull. It had been specially made, he had told them, as each one had to, to accommodate and befit the shape of his horns. For a moment, they allowed themself to daydream. Supposedly the itching he recruited them a dozen times a day to help scratch meant his own horns were due to come in soon. What would they be like? What form would his own crown take, to curl around and accent them?_

_... Would they have a chance to see them?_

The softly furred side of a finger against their eye made Frisk blink. Toriel had taken them down from her shoulders and was gently wiping tears from their eyes. "Goodness, my child, whatever is the matter?" she asked, her voice worried. "I have not hurt you, have I?"

Frisk shook their head quickly. "I just... remembered something," they said, their voice guarded.

With a gentle sigh, Toriel settled herself on the hearth, the magic fire burning there spreading its warmth over them both. "I am your caretaker as well, my child. You can always share with me if you are feeling upset."

Frisk pouted. "It's not my secret."

Toriel nodded quickly. "Then I understand." She smiled. "What shall I read you?"

Frisk shifted, glancing at the fire for a moment. "Surprise me?"

Toriel looked to the hearth. "That fire is a very different sort of magic. You could quite literally crawl into it and not be harmed or feel pain."

Frisk shifted gently, nodding. Toriel smiled, and drew down a book from the squat old shelves to begin reading quietly to the child. It was not long before they were asleep once again.

It was growing late when Toriel and Frisk finally finished lessons that afternoon. As soon as they were under the covers, they peeked out and beamed at Toriel. "Can I hear the next one tonight?"

Toriel chuckled. "I suppose it is better to tell this story soon after the last. This child fell surprisingly soon after Rhein, after all." She shook her head, settling onto the bed. "Very well. Let me see. Rhein had been gone for a few years, and despite starting to feel my years a little, I had managed so far to keep to my rounds. And, one day, when I went to visit the flowers, I found a young human there, dressed in a short-sleeved top and loose pants. A broken rope was tied around his waist. He looked up from rubbing his knee at my approach and peered at me with the largest, roundest eyes I have ever seen, a perfect hazel." She smiled. "And in front of those, the glasses he wore were even more enormous. He dusted himself off and started playing with his ponytail as I came up to him and introduced myself. He, in turn, introduced himself as Kythra."

"Kythra." Frisk seemed to be turning the name around in their mind.

Toriel smiled. "Kythra was a very interesting sort of person, open and polite without showing a single care for formalities. After he introduced himself, he took my hand and shook it warmly. I recall being struck by his skin. It was a warm, almost familiar shade of olive, and so soft that I was sure he must have diligently cared for it, daily at the very least." She shook her head. "I almost found myself lost in just how soft it was, and stirred from my reverie to hear Kythra explaining that he had come to investigate the disappearances on the mountain."

Frisk blinked. "Kythra was looking for Rhein?"

Toriel nodded gravely. "And for news of what had befallen Peloche and Ypres as well. Kythra's presence was unlike any I had encountered before. Even Rhein, who had come to the mountain for less unhappy reasons than those before him, had simply rushed without thought into the situation. Kythra, I soon perceived, had prepared for a lengthy investigation. He had brought a large bag with food, a pair of old canteens, clothing, notebooks, even climbing gear and a small tent. In addition, he had brought a plain box whose purpose I would not learn for some time; when I first asked him, he gave me a smile that reminded me almost uncannily of myself and explained in a gentle tone that I would have cause to learn, if the time came when he needed it."

Frisk nodded. "Didn't you say he had a rope? What about whoever had it?"

Toriel shook her head. "Nobody held the other end of that rope. Kythra had secured it; I could still see the far end dangling when I looked up. It had been frayed and broken a number of yards above the flowers." She frowned. "I suspected the Barrier's magic at play. Once Kythra descended far enough, it ensured that he would stay here, as we all must. I, in any case, offered him shelter and to explain what he had come to us to learn, at least as much as I was able." Shaking her head again, she chuckled. "He accepted, although he made certain to assert that it would only be temporary until he could devise a way out."

Frisk giggled. "But the only way out would be breaking the Barrier."

Toriel smiled. "Ambitious, was he not? I admit, I found his certainty refreshing. But perhaps I had simply been down here too long." She shook her head. "In any case, I took Kythra home and began the process of introducing him to everyone, and explaining what I could of those three. Indeed, I likely told him the very same stories I have been telling to you. Of course, all this took us a few days."

Frisk leaned in, beaming. "And then~?"

Toriel laughed and reached out to ruffle Frisk's hair. "I am becoming predictable, I see. It was a day after I had finished telling Ypres' story, up to her departure, when I learned something very interesting about Kythra. It was a fair bit later than when Kythra normally came to breakfast, and I was growing mildly concerned. I was making my way down the hall when Kythra's door finally opened." She smiled. "And there Kythra was, wearing a solid violet sweater that even your own would be jealous of and a beautiful pleated skirt that hung almost to the ankle. Kythra turned to me, and she said, 'Sorry for being late to breakfast. I had trouble digging all of this out; I'd only had my other stuff out up until now.'"

Frisk blinked. "But you said Kythra was a boy before. You even called her a he..."

Toriel nodded. "When I met Kythra, that was the case. I even confirmed it with him, to be certain. And yet... a few days later, there Kythra stood, smiling as she plucked her sleeves up just enough to show the yellow sparkle of her nails. She had let that black hair of hers out as well, wild and curling around her shoulders. The girl I saw that morning was unmistakably Kythra, and yet the difference was remarkable."

Frisk rubbed their chin. "But... she wasn't like Ypres, right?"

Toriel shook her head. "Kythra explained it to me over breakfast that morning. After she allowed herself a few laughs at my confusion." She chuckled. "Kythra told me that on some days, such as the day we met, he was a boy. But on other days, that morning included, she was a girl instead. I have to confess, I had never encountered the idea before. When a monster changes gender, it is usually because they feel more comfortable. The new gender more properly fits to who they always were than the old one. But Kythra never seemed to feel the least bit uncomfortable whether a boy or a girl. She said humans called it being 'bigender'."

Frisk blinked. "I never actually knew anyone who was fluid..."

Toriel nodded. "And so it was. Some mornings, Kythra would emerge in a sweater and skirt with her hair loose and wild, others in short sleeves and long pants with his hair in a tight ponytail. It only seemed to ever shift around the time they slept; at the very least, if their identity ever did start to shift during the day, they would wait until nightfall before adjusting their outward looks."

Frisk nodded, rubbing their chin again. "So what did you talk about after you'd told Kythra about Rhein?"

Toriel smiled. "With Kythra, I at last had an opportunity to build a curriculum and teach a child I was sheltering. I had not had such a chance in a very long time; even Ypres' lessons were targeted to what she desired in particular to learn. Kythra, on the other hand, was more than happy to learn anything I might care to try and teach. And there was plenty of that. Magic fascinated Kythra, of course, but there was so much more to teach, and there was never a complaint when we turned to more mundane teachings."

She shook her head. "Of course, that is getting far, far ahead of myself. Kythra and I spent the next few days working out what she knew already, and where our lessons should begin. A few days after I first learned about Kythra's gender, however, he showed me he had some things to teach me as well." She smiled. "After breakfast that day, he retreated to his room. I allowed him some space, but then knocked on his door. Kythra let me in, and then settled back on his bed, with that plain box opened beside him."

Frisk beamed. "Did he let you see?"

Toriel chuckled. "Kythra was happy to. I settled beside him while he rubbed something on his arms, and he let me look inside. There were quite a few things. Little bottles of care products, a pair of small objects Kythra called an 'SD card' that were apparently used in his cell phone, little packets of tea, even a pair of little notebooks. When he was done and put the lotion away, he told me this was his 'self-care box'. 'I've been better lately,' he admitted, 'but I have times when I get really low. These are things that can help me though the worse days.' He pulled out a few scrips of paper, decorated with symbols I had never seen before. 'This is Linear A, a language from my homeland that no person has been able to decipher so far,' he told me. 'Having this reminds me that there are always going to be problems to solve, and that it's okay if I can't solve the ones I'm working on right away.' He told me quite a bit about the ones on the side of the box closer to him. Of the things on the other side, he simply said that those were for when he was a girl."

Frisk scratched their head. "So some things cheered Kythra up more when she was a girl?"

Toriel nodded. "The other side of the box held things like nail polish and hair care, and a little jar of bath balm. There was a small pad of paper, which Kythra told me another time was a code a friend had made and they had cracked over several weeks. Ah, and a little packet of fresh coffee beans, as well. I made a point to start Kythra's magic lessons with teaching them how to keep such things fresh and preserved."

Frisk was intently examining Toriel's claws, and she laughed. "All in time, my child. Now... to tell the truth, I had occasionally begun to fall back into bad habits. Quite a few times Kythra and I would be up late into the night because I had slept well past the time we had agreed on for lessons." She sighed. "I fear that not only had losing Rhein been hard on me, but Kythra's presence at my side made that loss all the more acute. They did insist on accompanying me on my rounds of Home, on the grounds it could be a learning experience both on monster species and in counseling." She closed her eyes. "The first time I took those rounds after Kythra's arrival, I was truly and deeply exhausted by the time we returned. I forced myself through her lessons for the day, somehow, but I was bone-weary before dinnertime."

Frisk clung suddenly against Toriel's side. "Don't do that." Their face was set and worried.

Toriel let a hand rest gently against Frisk's back. "I know better, my child. Although I confess I still do... forget, from time to time." She chuckled ruefully. "Perhaps I am simply trying to emulate poor Rhein, at times. In any case, I quite literally let myself fall into bed that night, and woke only just in time to hear my alarm giving up on waking me. I laid there for a long while, staring at the ceiling, and found it difficult even to lift my head."

Frisk was clinging even more tightly to Toriel, lip quivering. She smiled gently, her claws pressing firmly against the child's back. "Please, calm down. I am not in that place these days, in large part thanks to Rhein and Kythra. Unpleasant as it is to think that my children had to care for me when I was supposed to be their caretaker."

Frisk pouted all the more. "You have to tell me if things get bad again."

Toriel nodded. "I promise." She thought for a moment. "Truth be told, I am not certain how long I lay there. I was only vaguely aware even when the door opened and Kythra appeared at my bedside. I only really processed the situation when Kythra reached out to play with my ear. 'One of those days, huh?' she asked me. I found myself too ashamed to even meet her eyes, and turned away."

A gentle smile curled across Toriel's muzzle. "Then I heard a rustling of the blankets, and felt a gentle weight on me, and when I looked back, a pair of great round hazel eyes were peeking at me from under the covers. 'We can't spend the whole day like this,' she admonished me, as if I were the child. 'You'll only feel worse if you don't go see the rest of Home's people. But we can rest for a while longer like this for, say, a half-hour, maybe an hour, until you're ready.' And then she just settled in against me, holding me and letting me hold her, for a long time." She scratched the side of her cheek. "Truth be told, it was a bit longer than an hour before I felt ready to sit up and start getting ready. When I threw back the covers at last, Kythra gave me a beautiful smile and scampered off to her room. She met me on the hearth with her box a few minutes later, after I concluded it was late enough that attempting breakfast would spoil our lunch."

Frisk giggled slightly, and tugged one of Toriel's hands against them, stroking over her claw. "Nail polish?"

Toriel found herself giggling as well, pressing the curve of her claws gently against Frisk's hands. "Kythra had me sit down right on that hearth with her, and yes, that is precisely what she took out. I was a bit surprised, to be honest; I had not seen Kythra taking out the box since that first day. She had told me that she was using it as preventative care, because she worried she might start to fall apart at her current situation. 'I've been depressed before, remember,' she told me as she settled on the hearth. 'I know what to watch out for, so I can know if I'm in danger of falling down the hole again.' And then, when she had painted one nail, she fixed me with a look. 'And I'm pretty good at seeing those signs in others, too.' She motioned for me to sit, and before I knew it she was putting little streaks of colors on one of my claws and asking me if any of them appealed."

Frisk tugged up their sleeve a little and looked at their own nails. "What sort of colors did you like?"

Toriel ran her claws gently through Frisk's hair. "Oh, a fair few. Kythra left me a few bottles for gloomy days, although I confess I have run quite low. That day, I settled on a sort of pale lavender, like my own robes but lighter in shade. She had chosen a forest green for the first nail, but once she had painted mine she seemed to reconsider, and painted her own a warm cinnamon color instead."

Frisk seemed pensive. "Aren't your claws a lot bigger than someone's nails, though?"

Toriel nodded. "We ended up deciding to only paint the upper half of my claws. The rest would be hidden under the curve in any case, and we did have to be conservative with our supply, since we had no means of making new nail polish in the Underground." She paused. "Or in any case, in this part of it. I admit I am not privy to what they may have concocted in Hotland, or the like."

Frisk pouted. "So we can't paint each other's nails?"

Toriel lifted Frisk gently, smiling as the child squealed and beamed at her. "I would not say never, I think. However, my supply was limited to begin with, and has only diminished since then. It is, sadly, something I have to ration. I would love to paint nails with you, if you wish, but I fear we must save it for a day when we both would benefit from something to lift our spirits."

Frisk spread their arms, wriggling their fingers. "I'd love to!" They paused. "I think I got you distracted again, though."

Toriel tucked Frisk gently against herself. "So, Kythra and I had painted our nails. When we were done with that, she ushered me onwards to the kitchen. She reiterated that I would still have to take care of the day's tasks, else I would surely think the worse of myself for it and sink myself further. But we would accommodate as well. Kythra gathered the texts we would need, while I prepared a larger lunch for us both, and as we walked between all the houses I had been unable to visit the previous day, we reviewed the previous day's lessons and prepared for the afternoon's. When we had finished visiting in Home, we went back to the flower patch to enjoy our lunch and for me to teach Kythra as she laid in the flowers gazing at the sky. We only returned when the sun was preparing to set and dinner simply could no longer be put off."

She paused, and chuckled. "The moment we entered the door, Kythra looked over at me, declared that I was 'well out of spoons', and insisted on making dinner. Not that it was very complex - none of the children I have met measured up to Ypres' _skill-_ et - but I have to admit it did feel nice to simply sit down and watch her. I found myself almost dozing off in my chair by the time she called to let me know she had finished."

Frisk nodded again. "It's hard, isn't it?"

Toriel chuckled gently. "Kythra was quite firm with me over the next few days. 'Toriel,' she told me that night, 'I know you'll be miserable if you can't do what has to be done around here, but you're also not allowed to kill yourself from exhaustion.'" She laughed. "'You have to budget your spoons,' they would tell me, with a serious look on their face. 'Do what you need to, but without using up more than you can muster up.' Soon enough, even as I delved into subjects to teach Kythra, they were turning around and devising lessons for my own benefit." She shook her head. "From their own experiences with depression, they drew on everything they could. They took one of their notebooks and set it aside to fill with nothing but notes on what we had learned would help me, and what would only leave me feeling worse. I still have it, in my own box."

Frisk beamed. "Kythra helped you make one? What's in it?"

Toriel laughed. "It was one of their first lessons to me. Of course, I have added here and there, and replaced one or two things." She paused. "As for its contents, my child, be cautious of who you ask. Some people may have placed things that are deeply personal to them within their boxes. Kythra never cared who knew, and I myself do not mind showing you, but I fear I will have to secret away one particular item."

Frisk traced their chest with their fist, and Toriel let a claw follow it. "You have not upset or harmed me," she said gently. "I only say this because others in the future may not be so open or so understanding." She shook her head. "To be honest, however, there is little more to relate. Kythra remained with me for a number of years, and the days were more or less all the same. I would teach Kythra their lessons, and tend to the other tasks around Home that were important to me, and Kythra would tend to and watch over my own emotional health." She frowned. "I sometimes suspected that on occasion they would neglect their own declining 'spoons' if they felt I needed watching, but, well. I taught and cared for them, and they watched over me, and that was enough, for a long time."

Frisk nodded. "Most of those shoes are Kythra's, aren't they?"

Toriel laughed. "The majority indeed are, but you would be surprised how many are not." She shook her head. "There are plenty of things I could tell you about, of course. How Kythra would curl almost like a content animal into the flowers on the days when we held our lessons there. The morning where I slept in and Kythra sat beside me at first instead of clambering in, because he thought I would object to him as a boy sharing my space in a way I did not when she was a girl." She winked. "I turned the sheets down at once and pulled him into my arms. Then there was the time Kythra discovered one of the monsters of Home had been cultivating echo flowers, and worked with them to learn enough about perfume to craft the first bottle I had used in... likely a century."

She sighed. "But in the end, that would only be putting off the inevitable. Kythra was nearly an adult when he came and asked me to teach him everything I could about the parts of the Underground that lay beyond the door. After all that time, Kythra was planning to leave me."

Frisk blinked. "But why? Kythra stayed with you so long..."

Toriel sighed again. "When I begged him to stay, Kythra told me that he would never be able to solve the problem of the Barrier from the Ruins alone. If he did not leave, nothing would change. Kythra loved being taught by me, but something made them decide at last that it was time to put that learning into practice. He told me he trusted in me to be able to care for myself even without him by my side." She closed her eyes. "I tried to refuse at first, but I had never been very good at facing my own stubbornness against Kythra's overwhelming persistence. I had long ago confessed Asgore's declaration of war, and the likely fate of Ypres and Rhein, and quite a number of other things that you yourself have not yet been told."

Frisk nodded. "So you taught him under-geography?"

Toriel laughed gently. "A simple but effective way of putting it. I told Kythra over the next week or so of Snowdin, where the ambient magic turns the ground to ice and fluffy snow, of Waterfall, the beautiful flooded caverns with an unearthly calm, and of course of Hotland, where the Royal Scientist performs their studies and monsters live in general comfort thanks to the power drawn from the lava below." She paused, and chuckled. "I suppose you could call that last a _hotbed_ of scientific research and urban development."

Frisk rolled their eyes, snorting a little as they leaned into her. "So then Kythra left?"

Toriel nodded solemnly. "Kythra did indeed. They had been packing throughout my lessons, paying careful attention to what they would need. Preparedness was something Kythra valued very, very highly. And then, one night, she and I painted our nails one last time, and Kythra got up and hugged me, and told me she was ready to get to work. She already had her pack, and she shouldered it and started for the stairs." She paused. "I tried to protest, of course. But Kythra just looked back at me and smiled. 'Everyone has to graduate someday, right?' she said to me. 'You're a great teacher, Toriel. I've learned so much from you, and I'm ready. I'm going to solve this conflict, and maybe I'll even figure out a way to set everyone free.' And..." She paused again. "Truly, I am not sure. Perhaps I was simply too low to argue any longer, or perhaps I honestly believed in Kythra. But, I held my tongue and watched her leave."

Toriel shook her head. "It was perhaps three minutes after that I realized that she had left something behind, and I bolted after Kythra in haste. I managed, somehow, to catch up with her as she was standing in the door, and she smiled at me when she turned and saw what I held."

Frisk tugged one of their blankets against themself. "What did Kythra forget?"

Toriel shook her head. "Her box. When I tried to bring it to her, she shook her head. 'I left that on purpose', she told me. 'It's a promise, so that I'll have to come back for it. But if you need something from it, go ahead and use it. When we're all on the Surface together, I'll be able to replace any of it.' I... recall trying one last time. I protested that what she proposed was impossible. But Kythra just smiled back at me, posed for a moment, and said, 'There has never been any such thing as 'impossible', or 'infinite' for that matter. Even grains of sand, when enough are in the heap, can reach the moon. I'll be back, Toriel, and we'll go to the Surface together and paint our nails as much as we want.' And with that, Kythra closed the door and vanished from my life, forever."

Frisk whimpered softly. Toriel began to gently wrap the child in blankets. "I had genuine hope, but Kythra never did make it back to me. I am afraid every such tale I have ends the same way. Do you understand now, why I am so determined to keep you from dying as well?"

Frisk leaned into Toriel's hand. "Mom? How come you never stopped them?"

Toriel bowed her head. "After Kythra, I met two more children beside you. Both of their stories end in the same way. Do you recall what Asgore needs?"

"Seven souls." Frisk wiggled a little more securely into the blankets. "If I leave, he wins?"

Toriel nodded gravely. "He will stop at _nothing_ to kill you as well and use your soul to wage war on your race," she said softly. "If you pass that door, he will kill you. And..." She shook her head. "This is also... my last chance. My last chance to take care of a child and, for once in my long, long life, not fail them." With Frisk secured, she embraced them tightly. "I love you, my child. Please, stay with me. I know we can make a good life here, together."

Frisk nestled in. "I love you too, Mom," they whispered. "Promise you won't be mad at me?"

Toriel set Frisk gently down, arranging their pillows beneath their head. "I will never, ever hate you, my child," she said softly. "Is it not I who should expect to be hated, in any case?"

Frisk wiggled up enough to kiss between Toriel's eyes. "Never." They smiled shyly. "Get some sleep too, okay Mom?"

A smile curled across Toriel's lips as she wound the blankets in tight around Frisk once more. "I have not yet grown old enough to forget Kythra's lessons to me," she chided gently. "You do not need to fear for me yet, and I will not shrink from asking your aid should I falter as I have in the past. I promise." With a gentle press of her claws against Frisk's nose, Toriel slipped from the room and turned out the lights.

 


	8. Perseverance, Side B ~ A Lantern in the Wind

Almost immediately upon the door's closing, Chara's face loomed into Frisk's vision, far clearer than the previous nights. Their smile was a little less thin, as well. "You're in luck tonight, Frisk," they said, almost conversationally. "Apart from the very end, there's really no part of this story I'm reluctant to tell."

Frisk beamed quietly. "You liked Kythra, huh?"

Chara patted Frisk's head lightly through the blankets. "Kythra falls squarely into the very exclusive grouping of 'humans I would not be opposed to being friends with if I did not hate the entire species without exception.'" Their eyes twinkled. "A status you'll likely be happy to hear you have a good chance of attaining yourself."

Frisk's response was an adorable pout. "You mean I don't already count as that?"

Chara laughed warmly. "Oh, Frisk. Well, maybe. In any case, I am genuinely happy to recall my memories traveling with Kythra." They paused. "And not solely because it was the longest period of time I had someone to be with instead of lingering alone in what remained of my body."

Frisk shifted, and Chara poked their cheek gently. "No, no, relax and rest. This works nicely, I get to peek at an adorable Frisk cocoon and be safe from your insidious attempts to charm me into physical contact."

Frisk stuck out their tongue. "But hugs are the most important thing in the world, Chara."

Chara snickered. "Enough getting off track. Now, then. Considering I was still raw from dealing with Rhein and being witness to his demise, I didn't exactly introduce myself the moment I first encountered Kythra and their determination. But, as it turns out, I kind of suck at hiding myself." They rolled their jewel-red eyes, settling beside Frisk and their bundled blankets. "Kythra picked up on my presence almost right away. Virtually every night, I had to deal with them trying to coax me into talking. Pleading, cajoling, negotiating... I was buffeted by about a dozen attempts every single night, in about a dozen different ways." They rolled their eyes again. "You have _no_ idea how tempted I was to bust out that dumb 'definition of insanity' speech."

Frisk blinked. "I'm not really sure what that is."

Chara flapped a hand. "Just a dumb meme from when I was alive. I'll tell you another time if you actually care. The thing is, Kythra was all about perseverance. Which, considering, isn't all that different from your or my determination. Unless they were completely and utterly out of spoons for the day, and sometimes even if they were, Kythra worked at me. They wanted to meet me, to talk with me. Even though they had no idea who I was." They paused. "Then again, maybe it's because they didn't know."

Frisk huffed. "I know, and I still talk to you."

Chara glanced away. "A miracle I still don't understand. But then again, you _are_ Frisk." Their lips twitched into a momentary smile. "You're right, though, that was insulting to say about Kythra."

Frisk nodded firmly. "So why did you answer?"

Chara sighed. "Kythra... had a nightmare. They woke up with my voice whispering an apology in their ear." They shook their head. "It's really only them and you who that's ever happened to. I'm honestly not certain why. Maybe because the two of you reached out, maybe purple is just close enough to matching red."

Frisk tilted their head. "What does purple have to do with it...?"

Chara blinked. "Humans don't all have pretty sunrise-red souls like yours, Frisk. There are different colors." They thought for a moment, ticking off on their fingers. "Peloche was cyan, Ypres must have been green, and Rhein's I _think_ was orange. Then the next two were blue and then yellow. Kythra's soul was purple. There's a game in Snowdin that teaches about them. We can check it out when we finally leave; apparently the color of your soul is supposed to indicate a virtue you hold close to your heart." They shrugged. "Mine was red too. Not like yours, though, a lot darker. More like the actual organ." A slight, thin smirk creased their mouth.

Frisk closed their eyes. "Chara..."

Chara took a breath. "Let's leave that aside, yes."

Frisk smiled. "You can just show me, sometime."

Chara chuckled. "I'm pretty sure mine doesn't even exist after how I died, but we'll set _that_ aside too. So, there Kythra was, waking up from a nightmare, and I couldn't bring myself _not_ to apologize to her. She didn't reply at first; she went for her box instead. But, when she had finished giving her nails a coat, she smiled and just said, 'It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Kythra.' And, well, I couldn't exactly go back to radio silence after _that_ , especially with her still shaken, so."

Frisk nodded. "Did you ever have a box, Chara?" They paused. "You don't have to say what's in it if you don't want to though!" they added hastily.

Chara shrugged. "I doubt it. Toriel had never heard of them, remember? And, well, I'm kind of a private person." They considered. "Barring the obvious stuff like an emergency bar of chocolate, I think most of the things I'd put in there would be really personal." They raised their eyebrows. "What, thinking of making one of your own, just in case? You strike me as the resilient sort, but then again we do have the same hue of soul."

Frisk puckered their brow. "I'm mostly curious. But... soft things, and things that crinkle like the leaves in Mom's yard." They paused. "And a ribbon."

Chara blinked. "You _have_ a ribbon, dummy, it's tied around your arm _right now_."

Frisk shook their head. "The long kind. The really, really long kind, you don't wear that kind."

Chara shrugged. "What do you do with those?"

Frisk flushed slightly. "Dance? You hold it and it twirls with you."

Chara's eyes snapped across to meet Frisk's own. "I had no idea you dance. You need to tell me these things, partner. Even without me asking." They shrugged. "You'll like the next kid, I bet. But, we're talking about Kythra tonight." They shook their head. "Once the cat was out of the bag, Kythra wouldn't give me a chance to go back. They'd chat with me about almost anything if Toriel wasn't around; they respected my not wanting her to know I was here, but I think having to bite their tongue whenever Toriel was around only made Kythra want to talk to me all the more when they did have the chance." They laughed, a brief, bright sound. "Especially late at night. Sometimes I had to remind them with my trademark gentleness that it was midnight and they had long since expended their last spoon."

Frisk's voice was suddenly gruff. "Get some sleep, dummy. If you fall asleep in Toriel's class tomorrow 'cause you stayed up late with me, I'm not talking to you for a week."

Chara's eyes widened. "Was that supposed to be me?" They laughed, leaning in close. "Well. I won't deny it. But, you're still a brat, Frisk." Their voice was warm, and Frisk grinned back. "So, among other things, that means I attended Toriel's classes with Kythra. They were... an awfully good student. I could _see_ how much Toriel loved working with them." Their smile grew a little less thin again. "She really was born to teach. You'd do just fine if you stuck around and learned from her like Kythra did."

Frisk nodded. "And I'm used to homeschooling anyway, so that wouldn't matter."

Chara blinked. "Lucky. School sucks." They shrugged broadly. "I liked watching Kythra taking classes with Toriel, though. Especially when she held classes outside and we got to spend a lot of it laying in the flowers and just listening. And writing, that is. Kythra had literally _dozens_ of notebooks filled with the things they'd learned and the results of their investigations."

"So they investigated things besides Mount Ebott?" Frisk was smiling lightly.

"All the time." Chara laughed. "Mostly the usual stuff, like 'haunted' houses or old factories where people swore they'd seen some bizarre unknown creature hiding. Their notebooks were full of notes from places they'd explored and studied... and of all the notes and research they'd done beforehand. Kythra was like the opposite of Rhein, they went into a situation doing their best to know everything there was to know." They smirked. "And then casually ignore safety regulations because they already knew all the ways in which they might be in danger."

"... were their parents mad?" Frisk fidgeted within their blankets.

Chara shrugged. "Not _that_ kind of mad. Just your average 'what do you _mean_ you snuck out at eleven-thirty to go walk around inside of a condemned house in search of an earthbound spirit?!' sort of reactions. Honestly, Kythra seemed pretty okay with their parents even if they sometimes got confused about what gender their kid was that day. I got kinda pissed on their behalf the first time Kythra let it slip, but he insisted it was always honest mistakes."

Chara paused, and smiled a little again. "Of course, the Underground became a very, very long-term investigation, so Kythra repurposed their books for taking notes during Toriel's classes. There was one more thing they used them for, though, and I'm honestly shocked Toriel did not mention it at all to you." They chuckled. "Kythra was always very forward-looking, you see. If there was one quality they had in spades beyond their perseverance, it was optimism. So, every so often, Kythra would open a notebook to one of the pages they set aside for that purpose, and start to draw."

Frisk hummed. "And what did Kythra draw on those special pages?"

Chara leaned back a bit. "Kythra drew themself. Themself as they would be, one day." They raised a finger. "Not 'thought'. Anything Kythra drew, they absolutely believed they would become if they decided it. Their notebooks brimmed with those future Kythras, each one completely different. Brave, muscular heroes in shining armor and with broad, beautiful shields, dazzling idols whose mere presence commanded the eyes of everyone, wiry explorers who wore their injuries as a badge of courage, sports stars whose prowess inspired the whole team to rise to their uttermost..." They shook their head. "Remember those notebooks in their box? Kythra copied over the most meaningful ones into those, one for the boy Kythras and one for the girl Kythras. Those notebooks were Kythra's potential, their future, and they always kept them close."

They lowered their head. "Until, of course, they left Home and left their box in Toriel's keeping as their promise. It was nice symbolism, but I told her she should at least take the SD cards. All the music and vids and other media that meant the most to her were on one, and the other was full of media that meant the most to Kythra when he was a boy." Chara paused. "And both cards had a copy of that one movie with the cyborg pirate and the engineer kid and the treasure map to a planet some crazy old pirate built for the sole purpose of having somewhere to stash all his loot. Also, space whales. But, they did put that on their phone before they left. Kythra loved the _shit_ out of that movie. If you pull this off and we see the surface again you have got to promise me we'll go see it."

"I promise!" Frisk beamed. "So, what was Kythra's plan?"

"The same as it had been back in Home." Chara shrugged. "Gather information, especially on protective magic - Toriel didn't mention that either, but most of Kythra's 'electives' were on that subject - and find a way to convince Asgore to lay down the banner of war. Once the Underground wasn't, y'know, actively trying to murder them, Kythra figured they could devise a plan to breach the barrier without needing seven entire souls. Maybe even a plan that would let the other three go." They snorted. "Oh, and a plan that'd bring me back into the bargain, but even for Kythra that was a little absurd."

Frisk pouted. "But everyone would be after Kythra... if they knew that Kythra was human."

Chara nodded. "Oh, I know. First step was definitely establishing contacts. I told Kythra about every monster I could possibly remember, and we eventually settled on using Waterfall for our base of operations. Kythra sort of had hangups about clothing and gender; she would have melted in Hotland from those big sweaters she loved, and when he was a boy he didn't really like bundling up, so Snowdin would've frozen him solid." They paused. "Of course, that made things kind of tricky, seeing as how Undyne, who was now Captain of the Royal Guard, _lives_ in Waterfall... well, we managed, at least. The other monsters of Waterfall are pretty... _chill_ , despite not being Snowdin residents."

Frisk rolled their eyes. "So how did you deal with Undyne?"

"Truthfully?" Chara winced. "Among other things, a lot of resets. The moment she got word of a human appearing in Waterfall, Undyne broke upon our camp like a monsoon. It was almost a battle in and of itself: Kythra taking careful notes of Undyne's strategies and patrol routes, while Undyne adapted to keep the initiative and the element of surprise. We... died quite a few times. Quite a few." Chara shook their head. "I was honestly surprised. Even without their box, even though Toriel had been left behind weeks ago, Kythra's determination remained incredibly strong." They smiled. "Once we were more used to Undyne's presence, we settled on talking to Gerson."

Frisk nodded. "You mentioned him before."

Chara chuckled. "Yeah. Gerson is an old tortoise monster with a scraggly white beard and probably more years than Toriel and Asgore put together. In fact I think he's the last living monster besides those two who's ever seen the surface." They shook their head. "Gerson is pretty neutral on the whole thing. Getting back to the surface, declaring war... With Toriel left behind, he agreed to teach Kythra what he could. When he could remember to, anyway; age hasn't been the kindest to him, although sometimes I think his 'I forget' is really 'I don't want to talk about that today'. He knew a decent amount, but what he taught most was about the current state of the Underground, and about Asgore. The sort of inquiry Kythra wanted to conduct, he claimed he had never known in the first place; that, or so he insisted, was Royal Scientist business. And, well, so." They nodded.

"Mom said something about them before." Frisk was pensive. "That thing she said, with all the long words..."

Chara nodded. "That was the previous one's thesis. I can't remember a thing about him, except the vaguest of impressions. Gerson told Kythra that the monster we should talk to is fond of human culture and that she likes to scavenge for disks in the garbage dump, where all the refuse humans toss away on or near the mountain ends up." They paused, smiling thinly. "Well. Almost all of it."

Frisk continued their pensive lip-chewing. "So... she likes movies?"

"Anime, actually." Chara snickered. "Undyne was hanging around the first few days, so we only ended up with a handful of resets for our trouble, and a chance for Kythra to try practicing defensive magic again. But, sure enough, after trying for a while, we found a monster in a lab coat rummaging through the garbage, a few DVD cases already under her arm."

Chara shook their head. "Alphys is no fool, mind. She knew a human when she saw one, and nearly bolted right then and there. But Kythra managed to calm her down... somehow. Alphys denied being the Royal Scientist, though; apparently at the time nobody had been able to demonstrate the technical prowess required of someone in such an august position. 'But you _are_ a scientist,' Kythra insisted, and Alphys had to admit that. She was stunned by the idea of working on the Barrier, though. With a human, even. They talked for a while about things, to the point that honestly I dozed off a little. When I was paying attention again, Kythra was finishing up a route map to get quickly and easily to Alphys' apartment on the middle layer of Hotland without bumping into the Royal Guard. Kythra was a girl that day, so she couldn't go right away without risking heatstroke, but she promised when she was a boy again that she'd go that very day." They chuckled. "That took some explaining, mind. I guess fluidity is something even monsters don't have a ton of experience with. They'll change sometimes, in fact the child after Kythra met one who did just that, but it's a _change_ , not a pendulum."

Frisk shifted a little. "Is Alphys nice? What did she and Kythra try studying?"

Chara laughed. "Alphys is a gigantic nerd. Ramen, pocky, figurines, stacks of anime DVDs... But she's also genuinely brilliant, even if she was more of a hobbyist than a professional scientist when Kythra and I met her." They tapped their chin. "She's kind of dumpy, but not really in a bad way. Bright yellow, long stumpy tail I swear I saw her trip over at least a dozen times, a big frill on her head like a trike's. No horns though."

Frisk's eyes went wide and shiny. "There are _dinosaur_ monsters?"

Chara blinked, and hid a chuckle behind their hand. "Close enough for government work, anyway." They paused. "That is... actually an amusingly relevant phrase for Alphys. Anyway, obviously the first step was to study the power of the soul. Getting a look at the barrier was out of the question for Kythra, and Alphys refused to be convinced that Asgore would allow her to take a look herself even in the name of escaping the underground through science over sacrifice. She downplayed her talents, a lot. Even when she figured out a way to empower a human soul while studying Kythra's."

Frisk paled. "Wait, Kythra gave Alphys their soul?"

"Not _gave_ like... like Asgore forced the others to." Chara's breath hitched. "Kythra just exposed it and let Alphys look at it and study it. She had a lot of decent equipment, for someone who had no official funding. You can actually safely let someone handle your soul, as long as they don't do anything to harm it. And you stay close enough. We, well, _I_ had to reset once when Kythra tried getting some fresh air. Alphys had his soul under some sort of microscope at the very back of her apartment."

Frisk winced. "Kythra must have really trusted Alphys."

Chara nodded. "Very much so. Of course, soul research wasn't the only thing. Kythra practiced a lot with some of the protective magics he'd learned from Toriel, and Alphys was _fascinated_ by his cellphone. Monsters usually get stuff that's decades out of date, and there was plenty Kythra's phone could do that she'd never seen. And, well." They shook their head. "Alphys had her days when she felt useless and couldn't bring herself to believe the day's plans would go well, and Kythra _left their self-care box behind_ so their emotional state held up as well as you'd expect. So... some days were just Alphys showing her anime or Kythra sharing some of the shows on his phone." They paused. "And any day they met up while Kythra was a girl was one of those days too. I never really got it, but Kythra always insisted on staying covered up. Even the foundation in the box was specifically on the male side. So, no managing Hotland on those days; her sweater was even more ridiculously big than yours."

Frisk hummed. "I think I'll be okay, though." They paused. "I sort of have to be."

Chara plucked at their own sweater. "I'm not really sure how I handled Hotland. Probably just never _went_ there while I was alive."

They gave a sigh. "Anyway. Things went on like that for a while. Hotland visits with Alphys for anime or science when Kythra was a boy, relaxing in Waterfall and sometimes getting lessons on civics from Gerson when she was a girl. But, between Gerson and occasionally picking up on things Undyne shouted when we got caught by her, the real picture started becoming more clear. Kythra learned in their studies what Ypres learned through her death. There was no convincing Asgore to back down. Not so long as he had convinced himself his people _needed_ him to do this."

"... The easiest way to deal with sorrow and pain is to make it into anger instead." Chara's voice tightened. "With the 'hope of humans and monsters' extinguished forever, Asgore believed only that would serve to keep everyone's head above water."

Frisk bit their lip again. "They would fall down?"

"Without the war, yes. That is what Asgore believed." Chara's head lowered. "And, so, those were the options laid out before Kythra. Find a hope for people who had been locked away, from whom humans had taken everything, who were slowly filling the space of their kingdom until, soon, nothing would remain. Or, break the barrier and accept what might result from the monsters' resentment."

"They should have taken that box after all." Frisk's voice was barely audible.

Chara snorted. "I told them that myself, time and again. We talked more than ever, in those days. Kythra tried more than a handful of times to ask Gerson to bring Asgore for a private meeting, but he refused. If Asgore laid eyes on Kythra, Gerson said, he would believe himself duty-bound to kill them, and believe himself a traitor to his people if he let Kythra meet him and live. That's what Ypres never understood; it wasn't about how people saw him, it was about what he thought they needed from King Asgore Dreemurr. And, well, even Kythra couldn't see a way for monsters to maintain hope with no chance left to shatter the barrier. They could promise their soul to the monsters when they passed on, of course, but what guarantee was there the other humans would accept such a thing? Most monsters wouldn't live long enough to see three more humans come down and willingly offer their souls at the moment of their natural deaths."

Frisk put a hand to their own heart. "So Kythra needed to engineer hope."

"Bingo." Chara shook their head. "Asgore was set aside, other than a notebook Kythra wrote in from time to time. Instead, they threw themself into working with Alphys on her research into the soul. And managing her self-care on the side, though she proved a lot more stubborn than Toriel in that regard. I guess it's harder when you're working with someone who casually calls themself 'your friendly neighborhood garbage can scientist' and you're personally looking paler and more tired and getting winded more easily every time you see them."

Frisk winced. "So... what did they find out?"

Chara stared up at the ceiling. "A lot of stuff. Kythra was working with Alphys for years, even with their limited meetings. But, most of what they learned was about reinforcing the soul, making it able to do things human souls shouldn't be capable of. Useful, but not what we needed. Even when Alphys figured out a way to make Kythra's soul _shoot things_ like something out of a shmup, it couldn't get through Kythra's own shield magics, let alone the Barrier." They raised a finger. "Not that Alphys' discoveries weren't frankly amazing, there is nothing _not_ to be proud of about making a human able to turn their soul into a Gradius. But empowering the soul of a _living_ human wasn't going to get monsters past the barrier without having to add to the body count. As well, there was a limit to what Alphys could propose, study, and have access to."

"How could she change that, then?" Frisk sighed.

Chara shrugged. "The obvious route. The one Kythra had tried to encourage the whole time, despite Alphys' protests. Graduate from being a candidate to _being_ the Royal Scientist. It'd get her funding, prestige, people recognizing her talents so that maybe she'd start to acknowledge them herself... and get her closer to Asgore, who she utterly adored and maybe sorta wrote cute smoopy stories about herself getting to cuddle with for mutual comforting that Kythra totally got her to show them?" They paused. "There was another route, but Kythra kept that under wraps. It seemed logical to them that the previous Royal Scientist would have also studied human souls; after all, how could Asgore not have set his most talented mind to solving that very task? Time and again, when Gerson visited and taught, she would ply him for information, trying desperately to figure out who they had been and whether their notes might still exist. Gerson, for his part, seemed to genuinely remember next to nothing, other than that the Core had been built under his tenure, but he promised to ask anyone he thought he could trust."

"If he remembered," Frisk finished.

Chara rolled their eyes, but then let out a long sigh. "And now we come to the part I really didn't want to relate." They glanced at Frisk. "... scootch over?"

Frisk obediently rolled towards the wall, ending up on their side, and Chara flopped down beside them. "Because you have to tell me what happened to Kythra?"

Chara grimaced. "... so, one day Kythra dropped by Alphys' home to find her just sort of... staring into space. Eventually he got out of her that another monster she hung out with a lot had dropped by, hinted that he knew that she was researching souls and was aspiring to be the next Royal Scientist, and had made her an offer. Become the new one, and he would give her any notes her predecessor had kept on soul research. To Kythra, it was the opening he'd been looking for." They turned to stare at the ceiling again. "One of the few lessons he'd managed to get Alphys to accept was 'Do what you can each day, even if it's a side project, and the impossible task becomes just lengthy.' This was a way to break it down; Kythra called it 'scaffolding'. First, devise a project based on the research they'd already done. With that project, catch Asgore's eye and become Royal Scientist. Then, with the old notes and her own research and access to both the Barrier and the human souls the king held, the project could really go forward."

A thin, tight smile plastered itself across Chara's face. "And then... then Kythra added his master stroke. Well, first he had himself a coughing fit right there in Alphys' apartment. When he spoke, I could feel the air rasping and abrading at his throat. 'It's fine to trust in my approval for now, if you still feel nervous about those standards. Who else could make a portable shield for an exposed soul? Besides, pretty soon I'll be helping out on a full time basis, and I'd never trust anyone more than you to care for my soul once that happens.'" They tensed. "I... my mind went rather fuzzy, at that point."

Frisk squeezed their eyes shut. "So... Kythra gave up their soul on purpose?"

"... no monster took Kythra's life, no." Chara's voice was heavy. "Kythra was sick. Had been sick, for months. What I had thought was them falling back into their old depression and pushing themself despite their talk of self-care was actually their own body starting to decline." They closed their own eyes. "I eventually came back to myself to hear Kythra assuring Alphys that they would still be around for a few months, maybe even a year. If I had still had a body of my own, I am certain multiple of my essential processes would have stopped. I had died of a long and wasting... illness, and now I would have to watch Kythra slowly die as well. Not to mention, I now had a hard time limit. Within a year I would lose the human who had come closest to..." They shook their head rapidly. "... fuck it. Kythra was the only human I've ever considered a _friend_ , and I had at most a year before having to watch them die, and as a bonus I would be alone once again when they did."

Frisk wiggled in their blankets, trying to get a hand free. Chara put up a hand. "Frisk, I know what you intend, but that will not help me right now. Besides, if you do that you shall lose that lovely cocoon for the rest of the night. And yes, you still have a chance to be what Kythra was. But I spent _years_ with them. More than half of their life was spent here, in the Underground, and I became their companion on the first day they climbed down on that rope. And... now they were dying, and they had never once said a word to me." They sighed. "Alphys insisted on putting their research on hold and just devoting the day to anime and plotting out her candidacy project. Kythra insisted with just as much passion that they continue as they had until he was too sick for testing on his soul to be safe anymore. He wanted to give Alphys as much of a head start as he possibly could."They chuckled. "And, for once, Alphys prevailed. I have to assume Kythra was too pleased by her taking a stand to really press things too hard."

Frisk sighed. "But she still came to visit, right?"

Chara nodded. "Well, of course. She would have preferred to come and help with Kythra's illness, but she never did manage to find any texts on human medicine. Monsters were... not particularly familiar with human biology, for obvious reasons. We enlisted Gerson again, of course, but the twin constraints of experience with healing magic and a willingness to treat a sick human without informing the king made it... difficult for him to find someone to help. And so the months wound on."

There was a long pause. Chara slowly sighed, turning their eyes fully on Frisk's own. "Nearer to the end, I became... desperate. Kythra was barely awake one day, and Gerson had come by to do what little tending he could. Kythra was weak enough that I didn't really need his permission; I took the wheel and managed to grasp Gerson by the shoulders. My words scoured Kythra's throat, so raw I half-believed every word tore shreds from his flesh, but I managed to beg Gerson to find a way. There had to be some way to cure Kythra, to heal them. I was already trembling; the pain was so eerily familiar, even if his hands were not raw with sores, but I managed to hold on."

"Gerson gave me a long look, and then shook his head." Chara shivered. "'I'm sorry, kiddo, but I just can't manage it. I was "the Hammer" back then, not "the Glue". I'm good at two things: breaking lines, and breaking heads. The one for fixing you up, well, she's not available. All I can do is make it hurt less.' He paused, and actually smiled a little. 'Good to see you again, though. Been a long, long time, but you at least I ain't forgetting. Guess I'm not all the way gone yet, eh? Wa ha ha.' I couldn't hold on anymore, and Gerson went back to tending to Kythra. Cool cloths, grinding up whatever medicines he'd brought, warm, sweet tea to soothe his throat, slow-burning herbs to calm..." They closed their eyes. "Gerson turned to him, just before he left, and nodded. 'We've all got to do what we can for the moment, right? See you again when I can, you two. Take care of each other, ya got it?'"

Frisk's eyes were solemn. "I bet Kythra was really happy you stuck around."

"It's not a question of whether I helped. It's whether I did enough." Chara's eyes lay heavily lidded now, almost a mirror to Frisk's own. "Watching Kythra's illness progress was... awful. I shut down again and again as the weeks blurred by. I still cannot fathom how I remained tethered to them."

"Because Kythra cared about you." Frisk shook their head. "And you didn't want to leave."

"Determination is a strange thing," Chara concurred. "Well. Little changed for months, save for Kythra's condition slowly growing worse. Gerson would come by to chat and tend to the patient, Alphys would swing by with piles of anime and occasionally something Kythra could do that wouldn't endanger them. I always made Kythra make doubly sure, though. An illness like that shreds determination - Alphys actually directly confirmed that - and I was hardly in a fit state to help them reset either. So, well, things just slowly went on."

Frisk pondered. "Why didn't you two go back?"

"To before the illness?" Chara shook their head. "Kythra kept it a secret from even me. They were sick for months before that coughing fit clued me in. Reaching that far back just isn't possible. It was the same way when Ypres died, remember? And even if we were willing to _reset_ , neither of us had enough determination. Not that Kythra exactly wanted to be twelve again." They sighed. "I almost want to stop, but then again we are at the denouement. Kythra held on a year; another win for their optimism, I suppose. One day, though, she and I both knew. 'It's the end,' I observed, and Kythra nodded. I took control one last time to hastily text Alphys to come, and bring Gerson if she could find him. Kythra didn't stop me; I think she wanted them both there when she died."

"Did they make it?" Frisk was trembling so much Chara could see it through the blankets.

Chara nodded quickly. "With time to spare. I lent what determination I had left to Kythra. She was still awake when they arrived, and she handed them each a notebook before they could start talking. Alphys got a notebook packed with self-care tips and gentle admonishments. 'Promise me you'll read it, even if you don't follow it,' she managed to rasp out. 'And the last page... at least leave it intact, okay?'"

Frisk blinked. "The last page?"

Chara smiled weakly. "Kythra's last future portrait. Herself, Alphys by her side, the three other souls alongside them, and Asgore behind, watching in wonder as the Barrier crumbled away to nothing." They began to blink rapidly. "Gerson's was the notebook Kythra had been working on. She asked him to give it either to Asgore or to someone that could be trusted to make sure he followed it. Gerson gave that laugh of his and said he knew just the person."

Chara sighed, and their eyes blinked even more rapidly. "Then Kythra just put on that movie of theirs. I don't think they'd ever shown Alphys before. She was quiet for once, except to nudge Gerson at one point and whisper, 'You know what you've got to do, right?' And, somewhere in there, so gently I barely noticed myself, Kythra... passed on."

Frisk, for their own part, seemed to have no aversion to tearing up. "Did you... leave then?"

Chara hid their face behind a fold of the blankets. "No, I... clung just a little longer. Kythra and I had time for a last conversation, but I think I've earned the right for that to remain forever private. When the movie ended, Gerson picked Kythra up and walked off, towards the castle. We said our goodbyes somewhere along the way; even if Kythra wanted it I couldn't stand the thought of seeing Asgore taking them and their soul into his possession."

Frisk closed their eyes. "Chara, you know you don't have to tell me anything."

Chara let out a brief chuckle. "I haven't felt compelled to tell you anything, Frisk. Other than when you pushed me to realize how I honestly felt about Rhein. You want to know about the children who went before you, and I want you to understand my own feelings. The two dovetail nicely." They closed their eyes. "And besides, I enjoyed that one. I even feel just a trifle better about how it ended. Kythra, at least, seemed content."

Frisk dimpled their brow. "Chara? Before I go to sleep, I was curious about something." They paused. "You said Kythra had olive skin. Am I olive too?"

Chara considered this for a long moment. "You're... hm. I'm hardly an expert, but I'd call you on the dusky side of olive. A handful of shades darker than Kythra was, but still not really a different color altogether." They smiled, a bit sharply. "It's a decent fit, really. Warm, but still earthy, like the rest of you. Are you perhaps secretly a very well-disguised potato with an enthusiasm for tanning?"

Frisk rolled their eyes, and Chara snickered. "It's strange, though. Hearing you ask that... I know I'm as pale as, well, a ghost, but I feel like I maybe wasn't always that way. It's difficult to tell; I don't like thinking about what I looked like on the surface."

Frisk winced. "Because you'd have to think about more than just your skin?"

Chara's smile drew tight. "Perceptive as always. But, if I cast my memory as far back as I can during my time down here..." They closed their eyes. "Definitely... not as deep as Kythra. But I have a vague idea of looking in a mirror, him at my side, and on his shoulder I saw a warm olive face with flushed cheeks and glimmering blood-red eyes."

Frisk giggled a little. "So Chara was always blushy?"

Chara laughed slightly in return. "It is my most regrettable of weak spots. I suppose my skin was just light enough that being underground for so long robbed its shade." They shook their head. "In any case, Frisk, the hour grows late. I won't let you get away with things I scolded Kythra for."

Frisk smiled, closing their eyes. "Did you ever draw things like Kythra did?"

Chara shook their head. "Honestly, it always felt too close to something _he_ did. Not that Kythra didn't suggest it, mind you. But I think that particular thing is related to the one thing Toriel won't show you from her box, so I will maintain my silence and simply think fondly of it to myself."

Frisk nodded. "Thanks for talking with me so long, Chara." They yawned. "Night?"

Chara leaned against the wall, watching Frisk settle into their blanket cocoon. A memory stirred, one they were mercifully able to keep to themself this time. _Take care of each other, will you not?_ Aloud, they said, "Good night, Frisk."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's four down, now. The next chapters may be slower in coming; progress on the blue and yellow chapters has been a lot less than I expected it to be. Yellow's fate is known and outlined, but Integrity Side B is in flux a bit and I've only actually written their Side A so far. I already have some parts of the chapters that follow Yellow mapped and even written, so those should be quicker.  
> Kythra's name is drawn from the computational side of mathematics, specifically the Antikythera Mechanism. In keeping with what I swear is a mostly accidental pattern, it also connects to the real-life location Kythera (the mechanism was found on an island _opposite_ Kythera); despite this, Kythra is actually from Crete. While we only got glimpses of some of those parts, Kythra is equal parts urban explorer, paranormal enthusiast, and gamer. (They are totally a gigantic Professor Layton nerd and easily the most net-adept of the six. Also when Kythra is female she totally styles her hair after the Hex Maniac trainer type.)  
>  With Kythra, I originally had the idea simply of a creative and studious bigender character who came to Mt. Ebott not to disappear but to find out _why_ people disappeared there. (One of the things I wanted to do with this was explore why _else_ someone might climb the mountain besides Chara's reason.) What I ended up with was a boundlessly optimistic foil to Chara who ended up paralleling a handful of Frisk's core traits as well, and who won Chara over much the same way Frisk does to everyone around them. Living in Home with Toriel for far longer than any of the other kids did (Frisk has been there a few months at most by the start of this story), Kythra also allowed me to explore Toriel's emotional state further and with more attention to specific care than Rhein's instinctive closeness. It doesn't hurt that they make a fantastic contrast to Rhein.  
>  (Incidentally, they absolutely would have put Chara in their final future portrait, but that would've revealed their presence. Chara is well aware of this and isn't upset at all about not being in it.)  
> (*It's not like I would've contributed meaningfully anyway.)  
> The more Kythra developed, the more I saw them as the child with the strongest relationship with Chara. It's not a -pairing- by any means but being even Chara's friend is Not Easy (even if they're admitting Frisk might have a shot too). Kythra, for their part, was more than happy to have a Cool Ghost Friend following them around and being fondly snarky.  
> I had a lot of fun picking out Kythra's self-care items and making a box for them. Although I realize it's a little bit of a stretch to think they could carry all the stuff Toriel lists off. Barring the spare hair ties they kept on the boy side, I did manage to mention everything they had in there. (The tea is on the male side, while the coffee is on the female one.) The split is because to my understanding, _some_ genderfluid people shift in personality when their gender changes; Kythra does to a limited extent as well. The main shift is that as a male, Kythra is more comforted by looking forward to what he could be doing next (and is slightly less confident in his appearance, hence the focus on skin care as a way to reassure himself), while as a girl, she takes heart by remembering all the things she's already accomplished (and is a lot more comfortable about things like her preferred hair style and taking long relaxing baths).  
>  And since I know some people are likely to be curious, I honestly don't have this set but if pressed I'd probably say Kythra is DMAB. Not that it actually enters into anything except maybe Kythra's hesitance to cuddle in with Toriel at first when he's male.
> 
> Also, references! Side A's title is a reference to the infamously challenging exploration game La-Mulana. The 'definition of insanity' speech Chara is talking about is the one from Farcry 3. As for Kythra's movie... p-please don't tell me you all know? :")  
> (okay fine it's Treasure Planet now go watch it if you haven't!!!)


	9. Integrity, Side A ~ The Dancer Who Chose Their Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Primary warnings for this chapter: bigotry, reference to assault, brief mention of misgendering, and some continuation of the previous chapter's depression themes. Both sides also contains discussion of deadnames; Side B has an instance of deadnaming and depiction of a trauma-fueled nightmare.  
> Additional warning: the blue soul child has a tendency to repeat hurtful things people have said to them under stress or when agitated; I've kept to the "milder" ones but still, bigoted language in a few places and warning for whatever that trait might code for. (Anxiety? Internalization? I'm not really sure what it would be, I gave them the trait rather than whatever might cause a person to -have- that trait.)

The following morning, Frisk went out searching the Ruins. Toriel had decided by now that they would be better able to settle down and pay attention to lessons in the afternoon, leaving the mornings open until lunchtime. Usually, the child would use this time to play, or to visit, or simply stretch their legs. Sometimes, though, they set out from Toriel's house with a particular purpose in mind.

Napstablook was laying on their back when Frisk found them, in the very same patch of leaves where the child had first come across them. Somehow, even laying down, the ghost managed to still look exactly like a draped sheet with eyes. The old corridor drew in close in this one place, snugly enough that it was impossible to walk around the relaxing monster.

"Move them by force?" Chara said, more out of tradition than anything else.

"i'd honestly rather if you didn't..."

Chara yelped and clapped a hand over their mouth. Frisk smiled, kneeling gently beside the ghost. "Chara wasn't serious." They tilted their head. "Hello, Blooky. What are you up to today?"

Napstablook blinked. "i, um, i'm in your way again, aren't i."

Frisk shook their head, beaming gently. "How could the person I'm looking for be in my way?"

Napstablook sat up a little. "oh... um..." They laid back down. "well, if you're honestly asking... i decided to try laying down and feeling like garbage somewhere else for a change."

Chara crossed their arms and prepared to speak, but before they could, a soft crinkling sound cut them off as Frisk let themself flop back into the leaves. "Can I be company even if I don't feel like garbage today?"

Chara stared. "Frisk, what are you doing? You just said you were looking for them."

Frisk hummed gently. "That's fine. Blooky was doing this first."

Napstablook rolled onto their side. "oh... i can stop... it's not really important i do this..."

Frisk shook their head quickly. "I want to ask some things. They can wait."

A muted crinkling sound made both of them look over. Chara was now laying beside the two, their translucent form halfway hidden under the leaves. "Well, if Frisk is going to insist on this... I suppose I feel enough like garbage for the both of us anyway..."

Frisk put their hand near Chara's. "I don't want you to feel like that..."

Napstablook rolled onto their back again. "that's... not exactly the point. i... kinda didn't explain it well... i'm sorry..." They closed their eyes. "but... if you do, it's nice to just lie down and accept that feeling... pretending you're happy when you're not..." Another pause. "oh... i'm rambling and forcing my opinions again, aren't i..."

They started to fade, and Frisk sat up. "Please stay, Blooky. I'm the one who didn't get it."

Napstablook faded back in with a sigh. "i guess what i mean is... if i'm feeling like garbage... i don't think i should pretend i'm not... but, i'm just me. i shouldn't tell you what's not a good idea..."

Frisk closed their own eyes. "I think... I honestly feel good today. But I want to relax with you, if it doesn't bother you."

Chara rolled their own eyes. "Frisk, for crying out loud... Well, then. If you insist, I will join you both. It might be Blook's idea works for me as well."

All three now fell silent, only Chara's eyes remaining open and watchful. Time slipped by, slowly and quietly. The world seemed hushed, to the point where Chara could have sworn they heard an etherial, quiet passage of music. It was a long while before Chara heard anything more, and even longer before they were able to place what that sound was.

When they did, they turned their head, eyebrow raised. Frisk's chest rose and fell gently, and a gentle sound rose from their upturned face. Chara sighed a little. "... for future reference, Blook, this is what snoring actually sounds like. Not just saying the letter 'z' over and over."

Napstablook sat up a little. "oh... i knew i was kind of a boring person, but..."

Chara raised a finger. "I do not think Frisk is capable of boredom. They fell asleep because they felt safe and content. Humans just are that way, sometimes." They closed their eyes. "Especially when that feeling of safety is hard to find."

Napstablook inclined their head. "sleep troubles?" they asked.

Chara smirked. "When I was alive, anyway. Technically I no longer sleep. As for Frisk, I have no clue. I know... almost nothing about their life before they climbed Mount Ebott." They puffed their cheeks as they stared at the sleeping child. "It strikes me at times as extremely unfair."

Frisk stirred softly, sending the leaves crackling merrily beneath them. Chara shook their head. "I would like to ask a favor. Frisk was looking for you because they wanted to learn about the Underground. You and your cousins are the only ones who can pass freely between the Ruins and the rest of the kingdom." They paused. "Also, Toriel is expecting them home by lunchtime, so if it gets that late and they still have not woken up, please help me wake them?"

Napstablook nodded. "um... about my cousins, though... correcting you is probably rude, but it'd be ruder not to, right?" They paused. "my cousins are all in corporeal bodies these days. usually, at least. so really it's just me who can come and go."

Chara tilted their head. "Even the one in that dummy Toriel used to teach Frisk about ACTing in battle? It looked like they took off after Frisk and Toriel left."

Napstablook nodded. "oh. it's not a perfect fit, so they leave sometimes, yeah. but... usually they just go right back in." They paused. "so... you want me to talk to them when they wake up?"

Chara nodded. "But let them sleep for now. They had a nightmare last night." They tucked in against themself, gripping their sweater tight. "If they sleep until lunch, that is fine. We can always try and find you again tomorrow."

When Frisk woke, they were crying softly. Chara curled into a corner while Napstablook showed off a new trick they had learned; this time, they used their tears to create a derby hat, and not on their own head but on Chara's. By the time Frisk had calmed down, it was time to head back.

That night, Frisk strode purposely down to the door and waited for Toriel to face them. They made no attempt to fight; their eyes were wide open for once and searching among the roiling flames. When their reserves of strength gave out, they toppled into Toriel's arms and let her heal them. After they were healed and tucked into bed, Frisk slipped out to kneel beside the bed and, with occasional coaching from Chara, dug out their crayons and began to draw.

Napstablook was harder to find the next day, but they were floating upright and immediately answered Frisk's greeting with, "oh... i was... waiting for you, actually... it's your turn to get to do what you wanted..." Their explanations were halting, often interrupted by Napstablook assuming they had upset or insulted Frisk somehow and Frisk having to gently reassure them. Their tale hadn't even reached Snowdin Town proper when Frisk's phone vibrated gently. When they parted ways, even Napstablook was smiling a little.

For the next few weeks, every morning Frisk sought out Napstablook, sometimes laying in the leaves and sometimes listening to the ghost tell them everything they could about what lay beyond the stone door. Every evening, Frisk would stand before that stone door as Toriel's flames rolled out, until they collapsed, barely conscious, into her arms once again. Each night, they would clamber out of their blankets and add new drawings to the growing pile under their bed.

One night, however, when Frisk stood before the door, Toriel slipped up beside them and scooped the child into her arms. "Not tonight," she said, shaking her head firmly. "I have allowed you to go without minding your determination for far too long as it stands."

Frisk wriggled unhappily against her. "Why not?"

Toriel sighed. "Determination is, and shall always be, your lifeline, my child. Continuing to fight me like this night after night, letting yourself slip to the brink so frequently, will drain the reserves of even a soul as vibrant and beautiful as your own." She smiled gently. "You must rest, my child. Determination can save a human from dying, but it does not make you immortal."

Frisk sighed and sank into the pillows as Toriel laid them on her bed. "I won't get past you if I stop trying..."

Toriel ran a claw gently along Frisk's cheek. "You also will gain nothing if you expend your determination on me." Her eyes grew narrow. "What good will your freedom do you if you finally overcome me, only to find yourself too tired even to pass the first sentry you meet? Will you so placidly ensure that Asgore will claim your life with ease?"

Frisk's eyes opened a fraction. "Is this a Kythra lesson?"

"In point of fact..." Toriel's eyes softened, and then twinkled. "Wait here a moment, my child."

"She does have a point," a voice murmured in Frisk's ear. "This is not natural determination loss, either. You _hate_ fighting her, Frisk. I can wait; don't just push yourself to get out of here."

Toriel returned a few minutes later, bearing a weathered wooden box and a broad smile. "I believe I made you a promise, did I not?"

Frisk sat up straight as Toriel opened the box. "Are you sure? You said you need to save it."

Toriel raised a claw. "When you save something, it is with the intent of using it later on. Now, I think, is the proper time. Truth be told, I am not particularly happy with how the past several evenings have gone myself." She withdrew a small bottle, her claws delicately holding it as she sprayed out the contents beside her muzzle, along the curve of jaw and neck: twice there, and twice on the opposite side. "Choose whichever color you like, my child," she murmured.

When Toriel placed the little perfume bottle back, Frisk was holding a small bottle of polish and quietly looking inside of the box. Toriel nodded as Frisk's eyes played over the somewhat unruly stack of small papers. "Kythra had me gather those, and gently prodded a few monsters to add to them," she said softly. "Rhein prompted a fair number of them himself, and there were not a few that came from before when he fell down. They are words of thanks, from the monsters of the Ruins for taking care of them. It does help, at times, to remember just how important it is for them to have someone."

Frisk laid a finger on the brush that sat atop them, and Toriel chuckled ruefully. "All in good time. Kythra insisted on me keeping my fur cared for. You are welcome to help me with that another time, if you wish." She leaned forward gently, lifting the brush and papers to show a pair of small books, and atop them a single pressed flower: yellow, with six petals. "And this... well. This is a memento for a rather personal reason." She shook her head. "Now, then. What color have you decided on, my child?"

Frisk held up the bottle, beaming. The contents glimmered softly in the light, the deep blue of the sky after sunset. "It's nighttime," they pointed out.

"So it is." Toriel's expression was slightly wistful as she withdrew a bottle of matte polish for herself. "Who shall go first?"

A while later, Toriel was gently wiping the spots on Frisk's hand where the brush had gone astray, careful not to disturb the scintillating deep blue of their nails. Toriel's own nails stood out in a deep, almost regal lavender against her white fur and black underclaws. "We need to spend more time doing things like this, I think," she said, blowing gently on Frisk's still-wet nails. "As opposed to, say, compiling a guide on every possible pattern my fire magic can create."

Her tone was almost conversational. Frisk stared up at her sheepishly. "You found my drawings, huh."

Toriel smiled. "I had an inkling as to what you might have been doing. When I passed your room and saw them scattered where you had been studying them, well." She sighed. "Understand that other monsters will not give you such an opportunity. If you gain knowledge of how their magic moves and strikes, it will come at the cost of dying, and quite possibly more than once. Not that your guide is without merit; lacking in precision, perhaps, but both expressive and accurate." She raised a claw. "Do not think for an instant I do not see what you are doing, however."

Frisk blew silently on their nails, tilting them in the light to watch them sparkle. Toriel shook her head and leaned in to blow gently as well. "I will never tire of seeing your soul, my child, but neither of us should continue with these battles for a while. We will wear each other down to nothing at this rate."

Frisk considered this. "You know the signs better than me." They tilted their head. "Hey, Mom? How come only my soul comes out?"

Toriel blinked. "When you face me? It is the same way for all humans. I am afraid on that matter I can only offer ideas. I imagine it has something to do with our magic and humans' determination. Our souls are more closely connected to our bodies, and they are not as simple to draw forth." She smiled gently. "But, as far as your curiosity goes..."

With a smile, Toriel clasped her hands to her chest, over the crest that adorned her robes. At her gentle nod, Frisk moved to shut off the lights, and turned. In the darkness, the child could hear Toriel shift and move slowly. They could hear her breathing, slow and deep. A tiny light appeared in the room.

A moment later, Toriel's hands dropped gently to rest in her lap, and Frisk caught their breath. The light cupped in Toriel's palms was shaped like a heart, just like Frisk's own soul, but instead of cheery warm red Toriel's own soul shone with pure white light. When the child looked around, the entire room was lit in stark, soft white. For a moment, Frisk remembered something.

_The bonfire had run low, but still burned quietly. Overhead, the moon hung in the sky, perfect and bright. They turned on their side, looking outwards. Beyond the circle of the fire's amber light, the mountain grass was a shimmering, beautiful white, sloping gently up towards the peak. They wished, for a time, they could douse the fire entirely, and let the whole world be lit by that light._

_The others needed the light to relax and see, though. And going far enough away from the fire would just make_ them _angry, and so they stayed, back to the flames, selfishly wishing._

Frisk hesitantly drew close. In that light, Toriel looked younger, imposing, beautiful. It was only when they drew very near that they noticed the light of her soul was growing brighter and dimmer in a gentle rhythm. Shyly, they settled on the bed next to her, watching and listening to her breath rustle in perfect time with the light.

"I will never cease to be fascinated by how every monster soul is a Cepheid," a voice murmured in Frisk's ear as they knelt before Toriel and her soul. "Is it any wonder that they are so much _better_?"

Toriel held out her cupped hands gently. "Would you like to hold it?" she asked softly. "I cannot hold both it and you."

Frisk caught their breath. "But that's your soul, Mom... that's _you_..."

Toriel smiled gently. "It is indeed. I know it is not in you to be careless or callous with it."

"I could break it." Frisk's hands were trembling. Toriel could hear their breath quicken. "I still want to leave. If I did that, you couldn't stop me."

Toriel pressed her soul gently into Frisk's hands, the human child instinctively cupping them. "You most certainly could. The offer I am making you is one of the utmost trust. You know what lowering one's guard does to a monster's defenses, do you not?"

Frisk stared for a long moment at the shining white heart that lay nestled, point up, in their hands. Their mind stirred once again.

_"I promise, it's okay! You can hold it as long as you want."_

_They stared, dumbstruck, at the shard of starlight that nestled in his white, fuzzy palms in the shape of a breathing heart. The light illuminated the small bed they both sat on, the light blankets they chose to balance his need for coolness and their need for safety, on the soft striped green sweater he wore, on the gossamer-thin chain that vanished beneath its collar._

_It illuminated their own shaking hands, the white pictograph of lines their fall had left in their fading olive skin, the weave of their own green turtleneck. They raised their eyes to his face, as well, but something like a bright cloud stood between their face and his._

_"I cannot. No matter how deeply you trust me," The name vanished as it was spoken. "I will never, ever trust myself to handle your soul. It is a certainty that I will harm you from the merest touch."_

_He sighed. "You have to stop treating yourself like this. Anyway, even if I am wrong, you can just fix it with your determination! There's nothing to worry about, so please..."_

_Their hand went to the chain that nestled gently around their own neck. "I am sorry." Their eyes lowered. "It means more than you can imagine that you would trust me to touch your soul. But I cannot risk hurting you."_

_He sighed. "... well, then. Sorry in advance." There was a playful lilt to his words as he shifted, leaning forward to suddenly bound upon them. His weight bore down on them, and their nerves stood on end, hastily reaching up to shove him off._

_He toppled, far too easily, off the side of the bed, and sat up rubbing his head. "Golly. That was an even dumber idea than I thought." His voice made it obvious he was grinning, and he pointed. "Oh well. See? Doesn't look broken or... 'contaminated' to me..."_

_They looked down, still panting, to find white starlight gently glowing in their lap, and their hands hesitantly lifted it against their chest. With a hesitant smile, they looked down at him. "... you idiot."_

The feeling of a claw applying pressure to their leg made Frisk blink. Toriel had moved them into her lap, their cupped hands still cradling her soul. "Are you all right?" she asked gently.

Frisk nodded quickly. "I'm just... startled, I guess."

Toriel cradled Frisk gently against herself. "My child, you are not and will never be the sort to claim victory in such a manner. I know I can trust you, because you are who you are and you will never deviate from that. I know I am safe with your hands holding me." She let her muzzle rest gently atop the child's head.

Frisk's hands were still trembling slightly. "Thank you, Mom."

Toriel chuckled, her eyes glancing over the sparkling blue of Frisk's nails. "Mind, I know all too well how someone can find themself moving away from who they are. Pareil would scold me for a year and a day if they could see how I have treated you these past weeks."

Frisk brightened a little. "Pareil?"

Toriel shook her head gently. "I do believe the mood is just right. I shall tell you Pareil's story tonight, but you must promise to rest a while longer from our challenges, agreed?"

Frisk nodded, fixing their eyes again on Toriel's soul. "Um..."

Toriel smiled. "Pareil would have appreciated the aesthetic. Hold it carefully, will you not?" She took a breath. "Now, then. I had left off with Kythra's departure. I will not lie and say it was not a tearful parting, but I had their lessons and their many, many admonishments." She laughed. "I have had happier days, but what Kythra left behind helped me more deeply than I can express. And in truth, I believe Kythra knew just how deep that need ran."

She sighed lightly. "By my best reckoning, it was nearly a decade before the day I heard a cry of pain as I was approaching the flowers. I ran to its source, of course, and found a child clutching their ankle and fighting back tears. They glared up at me, fierce as a fire and grabbing for a rock." Toriel looked suddenly incredibly wistful. "But, it would be fair to say I am experienced at calming agitated children. It took some time, but I was able to brace their injured leg with magic and bring them home to begin healing."

Frisk nodded. "What about the flowers?"

Toriel shook her head. "It was early in the year, and the child had landed near to the edge of the patch. They were not seriously harmed, but their landing put most of the burden on their foot. It had broken in more than one place, and the ankle was partially fractured as well. The child was not pleased when I told them it would take time before they could walk without risking further harm. The foot is full of delicate, slender bones that even healing magic must _tread_ carefully with." She paused, and fought back a giggle. "I most solemnly vow that I did not intend that one, my child."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I believe that..." They grinned.

Toriel shook her head. "Perhaps that, too, is simply who I am." She sighed. "I had to be rather firm, in the end. When I had properly bandaged their foot and done what healing I could for the time being, I introduced myself to the child. They, in turn, said that they had chosen the name Pareil."

Frisk paused. "Chosen..."

Toriel's ears perked slightly. "A concept you are familiar with, I take it, from how you introduced yourself to me..." She smiled quietly. "I assured them that if Pareil was the name they wished to be known by, I would use it and no other. Still surly, Pareil demanded to know when they would be fully healed."

Toriel paused. "In truth, I expected it to take some time. As I said, Pareil had broken a number of bones in their foot, and their ankle came very close to shattering as well. I bound their foot tightly and instructed them sternly that they must remain in bed, or risk damaging their bones beyond my ability to restore. Pareil turned away from me with fire in their dark eyes. 'So, even monsters will not let me dance.' They waved at me to go away, and I let them be for a time."

Frisk wavered. "People... shouldn't stop someone from dancing." Toriel tensed, and Frisk shook their head quickly. "You weren't stopping them."

Toriel sighed softly. "When I returned with dinner, Pareil had let their hair out of its bindings. It spread out, enormous and winding and somehow airy at the same time." She chuckled. "I had not seen hair like that in a very long time. While Pareil started on their dinner, I asked if I might play with it for a while. Pareil fixed me with a long look, and told me very firmly that if they did not like what I did, I would have to undo it and begin again under their direction."

"Bossy..." Frisk giggled slightly, cradling Toriel's soul slightly closer.

Toriel laughed. "Perhaps, but Pareil had their reasons. It took quite some time, but we did eventually settle on pulling it back into two bunches, each an orb of woven, airy black curls. Pareil examined it for a long time before proclaiming they were satisfied, and proceeded to settle into my lap. 'Tell me true, _mademoiselle_ _lapin_ ,' they said, staring up at me. 'Are monsters truly as I had hoped? Or will they also say that my dance is not good because it is not theirs?'" She shook her head. "I told them instead of how monsters express themselves with our magic. How every monster's magic is different, and theirs alone. There is no 'right way' to signal a greeting, or to weave magic. Even Asgore, sentimental fool that he is, does not shape his fire in the same way as I."

The laugh that followed was quiet. Colorless, Frisk thought. "So that's why Pareil was so worried about their foot?"

Toriel nodded. "Dance was deeply important to Pareil. The idea that they would not be able to, for days on end, grated on them. But I was not untruthful when I said that dancing would be impossible with those injuries."

Frisk tensed. "... I'd hate that too."

Toriel gave a soft sigh. "Truth be told, I was at a loss for a while. Even for the sake of their health, I did not want to separate Pareil from dancing. They were such an expressive child, and I could tell they wanted the world to see them. I lost a fair bit of sleep that night searching for a solution." She smiled. "... And in the morning, when Pareil woke, I set a number of books at their bedside and offered to teach the beginnings of magic."

Frisk perked up a little. "Why magic?"

Toriel's smile broadened. "Magic is something deeply important to monsters. It is our greeting, our protection, our art, our love. And each monster's magic is their own, and nobody else's. By teaching it, I hoped to make Pareil feel welcomed among monsters, and that until they were healed, they could show themself through their very own magic. And, of course, to weave it into their dancing when they were well enough to dance again."

Frisk nodded thoughtfully. "Did it work, though?"

Toriel nodded. "Pareil was a surprisingly talented young child. They picked up the basics quickly. Their magic was beautiful, woven unbroken lines of light that twisted into patterns that held meaning to Pareil alone." She paused, and chuckled. "Although, they became stymied after a few days when they tried to decipher how to make their magic match the hue of their soul. I had a difficult time explaining that such things would come only as they grew more in tune with their magic. That which makes a monster's, or a human's, magic unique is not something that can be taught; it simply emerges."

Frisk shifted. "So... how long did Pareil have to stay in bed?"

Toriel leaned back slightly. "It did take some time," she admitted. "In truth, I was not at my best either. Pareil told me about how they had lived on the surface while I taught and tended to them." She sighed. "It is a very different sort of heartache raising a child like Rhein, who sympathized with us and wanted to help breach the Barrier, or Kythra, who did wish someday to return to their family, than raising a child like Pareil, who could care less if they remained always in the Underground. Different, and painfully familiar."

After a long moment, Toriel shook her head. "Pareil told me most of all about the competitions they had attended. Seeing their love of dance, Pareil's parents had them trained in classical ballet. Their skill was undeniable. But, in competition, they departed from rigid tradition and script to add their own movements and interpretations and feelings. And they were chastised for it. Their parents were not the most well-off, and had hung their hopes on Pareil's skill to raise their own station. But with Pareil's insistence on winning with their own dance rather than anyone else's, they never quite were able to claim a major victory. Even when judges praised their technical skill, it was never enough to make up for the others on the bench who would sneer at their innovation, their expression." She sighed. "Pareil would repeat words others said, sometimes. I did not recognize many of them, but their expression told me what their intent held."

Toriel snorted, and Frisk nodded sadly. "Some humans are just like that." Their eyes fixed on Toriel's gently shining soul. "Some people just grow up hearing that it's okay."

Toriel's voice was biting. "Small wonder that Pareil grew to hate even the sound of their own name. Small wonder they believed that they had to climb a mountain in another country entirely and _fling themself into a hole in the earth_ to find a place that would not treat them so shamelessly."

Frisk caught Toriel by the shoulder, staring up at her with wide, trembling eyes. "Mom, your soul..." They indicated the white heart with their eyes. The cycle of its glow was growing visibly shorter.

Toriel took a breath. "... I apologize for frightening you, my child." she finally said, tucking Frisk tightly against herself. "I should not be so easily unmastered. But, looking at you, thinking of all the children who have come to meet me by climbing a mountain said to be the death of all who climb..." She closed her eyes. Slowly, the glow of her soul steadied. "At the very least, please know I will not harm you in anger. I know very well exactly who I feel so bitterly against."

Frisk nodded quickly. "I know that," they whispered into her fur, their head nestled into the crook of her arm as they cradled her soul tenderly. "Not all humans are that way, I promise."

Toriel laughed gently. "How can I not know that? Every human that I have cared for was proof enough. But such truths are little solace to those who cannot see any who are otherwise."

Frisk winced. "I was lucky. I know that."

Toriel's claws gently played with the child's hair. "Pareil was not as lucky. Even when they came here, I saw so little belief in their face. When they were well again, and had regained their grace, I brought them to the old tree and asked them to show me how they liked to dance." She smiled wistfully. "Even that took some convincing. I eventually had to couch it in terms of lessons; if I knew how they liked to dance, I could help them choose patterns and colors of magic that might help accent their movements." She paused. "Subject of course at all junctures to their absolute approval."

Frisk nodded, peeking out of the curve of Toriel's arm. "Of course."

Toriel chuckled quietly. "But, I must confess an ulterior motive. At first, it was merely us two, Pareil dancing while I watched in silence. Occasionally I would suggest they attempt a move in conjunction with a pattern they had already learned." She laughed again. "Mind, Pareil used their power of veto quite a few times. Different people do have different tastes, after all."

Frisk hummed. "Or maybe they were testing you?"

"Entirely possibly." Toriel's eyes twinkled in the light of her soul. "I did see a few patterns awfully similar to ones I suggested that day, later on in their training. Independently developed, of course." She shook her head. "But, I also knew that some of the monsters would be coming to see me at close to that time. And, as I hoped... when they saw Pareil dancing, and myself watching, instead of interrupting, they scampered off. And, also as I had hoped, returned with friends."

Frisk beamed. "Lots of friends?"

Toriel smiled. "Word passes quickly in the Ruins, although it was still barely holding on to calling itself Home in those days. When Pareil finally tired and settled down against the old tree, there was an eruption of cheers from the dozens of monsters present. I will never forget the look on their face. It was the first time I had seen Pareil genuinely smiling. The first time I think they had ever believed my words to them that first night." Her smile broadened, but started to tremble at the same time. "In those wide, dark eyes, I saw shock, a hesitant joy, and just a tiny bit of hope."

Frisk shifted. "So what Pareil needed was..."

Toriel nodded. "Approval. Not on the merits of rigid tradition and judges enforcing rules and rubrics, but simply that their dance was beautiful and someone enjoyed seeing it. That solely by being themself, they could make someone happy. They wanted to be their own person, for their dance to be _theirs_ and neither directed by nor tailored to anyone else, but deep down they also wanted to find people who enjoyed their dance." She chuckled. "But there are no rules in such a spontaneous gathering, and with so many different monsters present there could certainly be no 'expectations' that they had accidentally lived up to."

Toriel gave a long sigh. "After that day, Pareil opened up a great deal. They spoke more openly of their wants, they smiled more, they talked less and less of their time on the surface, and when they would repeat their parents' words, Pareil would often no longer repeat the name those people had thrust upon their child. They had brought some clothes with them, but after the monsters of the ruins made new clothing for the growing child, they wore the tunics and leggings and airy sashes we had given them almost exclusively. Their studies into magic flourished, although they were as particular as ever." She paused. "A year to the day after they fell down, they permitted me to hold their soul, just as you are holding mine."

Frisk peeked up shyly at Toriel. "What was Pareil's soul like?"

Toriel smiled. "A beautiful deep sort of blue," she said quietly. "Integrity, or so the theory of virtues goes, but the sort of integrity that means being true to one's own self and not swayed by the temptations or pressure of others. I still remember that sight. It was as if we had both descended deep into the ocean with the sun nestled in our hands..." She shook her head. "I understood why Pareil wanted to match their magic to their soul. The blue made such beautiful shadows in the curves and lines of their dark skin."

"Dark?" Frisk was looking at their hand now. "Like me?"

"Not quite." Toriel chuckled. "You are closer to Kythra by far than to Pareil, my child. Softer, warmer tones would suit your deep olive." She winked. "Or white, I suppose. Pareil's skin was a very deep color, as deep as can be while still remaining clearly brown. Your nails, however, match their soul almost perfectly."

Toriel sighed. "But, that beautiful soul was also fated to leave me behind. Pareil, just as did the others, wanted to know what lay behind the door at the end of the Ruins. When I told them about the rest of the Underground, they questioned why I did not go to them. They knew very well that caretaking is part of who I am; they, too, had accompanied me at times on my rounds. We had even occasionally encountered one another when Pareil was visiting someone I had come to tend to. So why, then, did 'a silly old lady who just wants to take care of everyone' remain here, locked away from the rest of the Underground?" She shook her head. "And so I told them of Asgore, and that he had vowed to claim the life and soul of any human who had fallen down. That sealing the Ruins was the only way to prevent him from being able to destroy those lives I wished so dearly to cherish." Her eyes closed. "That four times now I had failed utterly to keep my children safe from him. Pareil listened in silence. When I had finished, they stood. 'There is only one thing to do, then,' they said. 'Asgore must be stopped.'"

Frisk paled. "Stopped...?"

Toriel turned away. "There was something in the way Pareil said that which frightened me too, my child. No matter how deeply and bitterly I feel about him, I do not wish death on even Asgore. Even if I do not accept them or forgive him, I understand his motivations. But Pareil..." She lowered her head. "I confess, I became fearful. This was not like Rhein's boasting; he understood and accepted that killing Asgore would not make him a hero or lighten my heart. I warded the door and forbade Pareil from departing Home."

"When next Pareil spoke to me, it was days later." Toriel's voice was somber. "But all they said was, 'Is this what Toriel is, then? A jailor of children?' I... had no answer for them. How could I? They were absolutely correct." She winced. "Pareil would scold me so bitterly if they could see how I have treated you. Haha... perhaps I am not so different from _him_ after all."

Frisk shook their head quickly. "That's all my fault, though. If I didn't keep trying to leave..."

Toriel's hands were suddenly firm around Frisk, cradling them tightly against herself. "Do not ever blame yourself for my own behavior. I will not stand for it." Her eyes flickered. "You are under my care, and I know very well that what harm I bring upon you will never be anything but a damnable failure on my part, and mine alone."

Frisk buried their face in Toriel's arm. "How... did Pareil leave?"

"Through the door to the Ruins." Toriel's voice had grown weary. "Pareil saw through me too well. They challenged me for the right to leave. I... could only give way. When I summoned flames, they parted without ever drawing near to the child before me, and Pareil simply looked straight through me. They were right. They are right, still. When I stopped you tonight, it was for my own sake as well." She shook her head. "At the last, I begged Pareil to remain. Here, they had been accepted, and loved, and lived. There, they would find monsters who did not remember the sort of wonder and kindness that humans are capable of. The monsters outside of Home had been raised in a world prepared for war, where humans were known only for their horrid crime of taking our lives and imprisoning us beneath the great mountain. They would neither accept nor appreciate Pareil, nor even suffer them to live."

Toriel slowly moved to rest her muzzle atop Frisk's head once again. "Pareil looked back at me, hand on the door, and smiled. 'I refuse to be someone who only takes and never gives,' they said. 'I refuse to remain the only one of us two who cannot be themself. Perhaps I really am still _la demoiselle egoiste_ , but this is what my heart tells me to do.' When I begged them to reconsider, Pareil shook their head. 'I know, I know, _ma mere lapin_. You do not wish for death, and I do not wish to make you cry. You have made me smile, _maman_ , and I want to bring you joy in return. I cannot do that here, so I must go.' They stepped back to my side, and embraced me. I did not want to let go."

Frisk reached up with one hand, carefully cradling Toriel's soul in the other, and ran their fingers softly through her fur. "I'm sorry..."

Toriel shook her head gently. "Pareil was quite right. It is not a mistake I am a stranger to, in any case." She smiled wearily. "Pareil had opened the door as they spoke, but before they left, I was permitted one last performance, for myself alone. Carefully, delicately, Pareil danced their way from where I stood to beyond the door. Their final movement was their favorite and mine: a pirouette that trailed deep blue magic from their slipper as they spun in a long, unbroken ribbon. As their foot lowered and they spun faster, they grabbed the end of the ribbon and twirled with it, until at last they tossed it high into the air and let it dissolve into sparkling shards of light." She lowered her head. "And with that, Pareil bowed to me, and closed the door."

Toriel's hands were shaking when Frisk slipped from her lap and gently pressed her soul into them. "Thank you, Mom," they whispered softly. "You are wonderful, and you always will be."

Toriel's eyes crinkled, and she leaned forward to kiss Frisk's forehead. "You are a true marvel, my child," she whispered. "Please, go and rest. I want us both to take some time to recover and take care of ourselves."

Frisk nodded firmly. "You have to too, okay Mom?"

Toriel smiled, watching as the child slipped off of her bed and started for the hallway door. "I will, my child. I promise."

At the door, Frisk turned back to watch as Toriel returned the gentle moonlight of her soul to its rightful place. "Good night," they whispered, as they slipped off to their own room.

 


	10. Integrity, Side B ~ A Silver More Treasured Than Hollow Gold

"Hey, Frisk?" Chara's voice whispered in their ear as they passed the large mirror in the hallway. "There is something I think by now I must ask you."

Frisk stopped, looking in the mirror. ("It's you!" Chara said, almost automatically.) "What's wrong?"

Chara's image appeared in the mirror beside theirs. "It keeps happening. That memory just now, and when you were napping in the leaves, or when you were riding Toriel's back... How do you keep seeing them with such clarity? How... how are you seeing these memories when I cannot?"

Frisk paused. "But... you said you remembered riding on Asgore's back..."

Chara shook their head rapidly. "I could, vaguely. If I strained. But those details... his crown, worrying about _his_ horns... those are things I had lost. So..." They leaned in, close, and Frisk drew close as well. "I will trust you. But I must have an answer."

Frisk nodded. "If I'm breaking into your heart?" They shook their head. "If I am, I promise it's not on purpose."

Chara tilted their head. Their sclera seemed to darken. "Elaborate?"

Frisk chewed on their lip for a moment. "I'm not trying to. I just thought..." They took a deep breath, slow and quiet. "I thought that maybe part of me realizes that you can't remember all of some of your memories anymore. Even the really important ones. So... maybe some part of me is trying to help you remember them again." Their eyelids grew even heavier than usual. "Because I do want that."

Chara leaned their forehead against the mirror. "That... would make sense. And I do appreciate your willingness to consider it." Their lips curled into a tiny, weary smile. "What am I even saying? You would hardly choose to have to see the memories my leaking mind foists on you in the quiet of the night. I'm sorry, Frisk. I should already know you aren't that kind of person."

Frisk touched Chara's reflection gently. "I'm human, Chara. I understand."

Chara's laugh was mercifully brief. "I suppose you have a point. But, we shouldn't linger. You still have a story to hear, and if I tell you here, Toriel might happen on us and then she'll know."

"You could tell her." Frisk's fingers trembled against the glass.

"No." Chara's voice was brittle. "My presence now would only make her suffer. As always."

They vanished from the mirror, and Frisk slipped into their room. "You're getting better at keeping me out, you know."

Chara appeared again, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "You saw a memory with _him_ in it tonight. How is that progress?"

Frisk shrugged. "I couldn't see him, or hear his name."

Chara considered this. "Not at all? I saw him just fine." They smiled weakly. "His face, at least, I still haven't forgotten."

Frisk shook their head. "I couldn't see his face. It was like a cloud blocked it."

Chara pushed themself lightly upwards off of the bed. "That's... interesting. I don't recall trying to stop you from it."

Frisk clambered up, winding the blankets tightly around themself. "He's important to you."

Chara let themself float around, partly inverted, until they were face-to-face with Frisk again. "So. It was near a decade for Toriel, but Kythra lived for several years after they left Home. Kythra had only been dead a year or two before Pareil suddenly came tumbling into my reverie." They sighed. "Once again, I wasn't very keen on immediately cozying up to the newest human to wander up the side of a death mountain. And besides, Pareil was... different from the others."

Frisk glanced away. "They were like you?"

Chara paused. "That's... not inaccurate. But no, that isn't why. They were... cold, Frisk. There was something very harsh in Pareil. At first, it was all I saw of them, and I kept my distance accordingly. Even when Toriel reached them, I was watchful. But, I ended up letting my guard down anyway, because of something I was absolutely not expecting."

A slight smirk curled Chara's lips. "Protip, in the hopefully vanishingly unlikely scenario you end up in my position. Don't assume just because it's a dream that you won't be noticed." They chuckled softly. "As it turns out? Pareil's most vivid and colorful dreams were actually _lucid_ dreams, and they dove into one almost every night. I played along, assuming they would think me just another part of their dreams, if they even _did_ remember. By the time I found out, it was already much, much too late."

Frisk's eyes were genuinely wide. "Wait, you didn't..."

Chara shook their head. "I wasn't lying before. Only you and Kythra have genuinely seen my memories. Pareil's dreams were subject to their own shaping, and I had no idea until they whipped off my masque and commented that it was nice to dance with me again." Their face grew hot. "Ballroom dancing, by the way. I have no idea where I learned it."

"... So probably down here?" Frisk looked pensive. "Maybe I should ask Mom how."

Chara chuckled. "What, you don't know? I thought you said you were a dancer, I figured you'd be looking forward to Pareil's story."

Frisk shook their head. "Most of the dances I know are traditional. They're important to my culture." They closed their eyes. "We didn't stay long enough to learn dances from the places we lived."

Chara blinked. "You... moved around a lot, huh?" They glanced to the side. "I just had the one. The... important one."

After a moment, their eyes returned to Frisk. "Pareil and I had spoken before in their dreams. We... decided to only speak in dreams, for the time. As a sort of... tradition, I guess. They weren't as open as you are, I didn't think they'd appreciate the running commentary you get. Also, Pareil was about as big of a romantic as you are a flirt." They shook their head. "Then again, there wasn't much to talk about before leaving. Pareil was... content here, with the monsters, in Home. It was a familiar feeling."

Frisk nodded. "What did Pareil do here? Besides learning magic from Mom."

Chara smiled. "Mostly what you do. Dance, wander the streets of Home, spend time with the monsters." They paused. " _Live._ Isn't that so... strange? Look at us all, we came to a mountain nobody is ever supposed to come back from, and..."

Frisk raised a hand, waiting for a long moment before laying it against Chara's forehead. "It is weird, isn't it?" Their eyes twinkled under their sleepy lids. "But I'm glad you said 'us'."

Chara floated back lightly after a moment. "The night Pareil finally made their overture to me was the night before they left. They had been thinking about Toriel's situation for a lot longer than she seemed to catch on. We spoke for a long time, but I told them little. I was so tired in those days, Frisk. I was uninterested in hastening Pareil's departure from a life they had finally begun to love."

"... so, of course, they just asked Toriel the next day instead." Chara grit their teeth. "That's determination for you, I suppose. Pareil was pretty sharp, or maybe they just saw themself in her. Not that they saw the difference, but that comes in later."

Frisk shifted, letting their hand fall as they did. "So what was the plan after you two left?"

Chara began to rotate idly in the air. "More like after Pareil left. I just watched for the most part, remember? For someone as creative and vivid as Pareil, their plan was... pretty simple. They were planning to make their way to the palace, march right up to Asgore, and demand he stop the war at once and promise Toriel that he would never harm another of her children. A demand they were willing to back up with force, mind."

Frisk winced. "They were going to fight him?"

Chara nodded. "The thing you must understand is, Pareil was no stranger to fighting in their own defense. After all, their journey from Paris to Mount Ebott was mostly on their own. Not to mention, well, some things never change. Fighting Asgore was not something they were unprepared for."

Frisk leaned back on their hands. "Paris... We only got to Versailles, and we didn't stay long." They nodded. "I was wondering about all those funny words Mom said."

Chara laughed briefly. "Yes, Pareil was a born Parisian, and knew the language almost intimately. They even seemed to prefer it when they were especially upset. Where better to learn ballet, no?" They were still turning, facing away now. "Of course, that was an issue as well. Not everyone Pareil encountered was entirely happy about, as they put it, _un sauvage africain_ dancing ballet alongside them. Never mind that Pareil was _born there_."

Frisk pouted. "But Pareil was really good, Mom said!"

"That was the whole issue!" Chara's laugh was longer this time, their eyes round as they turned back to Frisk. "Can you imagine it? Idiot purists finding their precious milky-skinned children being outdone by the footsteps of a child years younger than them and a deeper brown than the mahogany flooring of the studio? They were _livid_ , Frisk. Pareil was an honest genius of terpsichore and every last one of those idiots could see it in every step they took. They couldn't even point to their results; every single time there would be at least one judge who would praise the child's technical ability, and speak fervently to them of how easily they would claim gold if they would simply keep to the steps of the dance." Another laugh. "And the best part? Even despite that, Pareil took silver in a regional-level competition. One of the judges even confided in them that they had only withheld gold because they felt it would be unfair in a _ballet_ competition to award victory to someone who had danced something other than pure ballet." They laughed in earnest, spinning more quickly. "Isn't that just delicious? The child of two dark-skinned immigrants, who refused to use _only_ ballet when they danced, still utterly demolished the ivory-skinned 'real' children of France trained at the best of schools!"

Frisk let Chara laugh for a while before quietly speaking. "The other kids took it to heart?"

Chara slowed down, and their laughter petered out. "Well, some of them probably didn't. Pareil didn't really talk about it though. They only mentioned they had had to actively defend themself at times." Their eyes flickered, and Frisk drew back for a moment. "Not just from the kids, either."

"... So, Pareil was going to fight Asgore?" Frisk was trembling slightly now.

Chara raised a finger. "Not intending to. Prepared to. Pareil's plan was literally to stride up to the king of all monsters and deliver a very upset 'We are Not Amused' in Toriel's stead to him. But if they had to fight to get there, or if Asgore was intent on fighting when they arrived, Pareil would be ready."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "I don't think the other monsters would be keen on that..."

Chara snorted. "Damn straight they weren't. Pareil's situation was pretty close to Rhein's at first. Undyne drilled 'this is what humans look like, you dorks!' into all the Snowdin sentries' heads after Kythra snuck past them; no such luck for Pareil. But, monsters were close enough to adults for Pareil's thoughts, so they fought them like adults: nimbly dancing around their magic and waiting for a chance to get away from anyone who wished them harm. Right up until they kicked a monster one time too many and it turned to dust."

Frisk whimpered softly. "Did you go back...?"

"I brought up the possibility that night." Chara's voice was heavy. "Pareil didn't jump to it as their first option; they actually stopped to listen to a Gyftrot's troubles and in thanks he showed them a cave they could shelter in for the night." They paused. "There's a big door in there, marked with the royal seal, that I've never seen open. _He_ told me once that it's only supposed to open for someone who has 'demonstrated that their dodging ability has reached the pinnacle of evasion', whatever that means."

Frisk frowned. "Chara..."

Chara nodded. "Pareil sheltered in that cave for the night. Snowdin is _cold_ , and they could hardly spend the night exposed. In their dream that night, we spoke; we'd agreed to make it a tradition that we meet each night. I pointed out that the monster Pareil saw turn to dust was dead now, gone forever. But we hadn't saved since then; we could go back and undo it. It wasn't as if they wanted them dead, right?"

Frisk shifted. "You're always so worried about monsters..."

"I had not yet given up, back then." Chara's voice was tight. "That is the case no longer. I will not speak up no matter what you do, Frisk." They sighed. "Pareil would not listen. They had spent most of the day justifying it to themself. It would not be their first option, but why should they suffer the day's trials again for the sake of a would-be murderer? They would not go back. If another monster did happen to die, why, that would be that monster's fault for trying to kill a child, _non_?"

"... how long did that last?" Frisk's voice was steady.

Chara smirked. "Good eye. Only a few days. I had a feeling it was coming, to be honest. Pareil's dreams were always such fantastic ventures. Grand, melodramatic tragedies, stirring love stories, epic tales of intrigue and courtly dealings... I was many things, when they had a role in mind. The cunning thief of coin and heart, the elegant heir from a throne 'cross the sea, the war-weary knight, the wily penniless mage." A long sigh escaped them.

"After that first kill, Pareil's dreams changed, and dramatically so. Their control had begun to slip the reins. That night's dream was a senseless tragedy, a royal heir crippled by treachery and fearful of the world, and their devoted page whose loyalty saw them become Pareil's slowly declining caretaker. They ended together, but not well, fleeing into the moonlit Forest of Botte." Chara closed their eyes. "...Pareil apologized to me, the next morning. They told me they didn't know what had come over them, but that the next night's dream would delight me. _They_ did not. Senseless pain and wretched suffering had invaded Pareil's stage. Where before they only had a single lucid dream each night, Pareil began to panic and dove into every single dream, desperate to weave one proper for us to walk together. But no matter how many we viewed, the endings of Pareil's dreams were no longer beautiful. And then..."

Frisk had squeezed their eyes shut, and their arms clutched at their sweater. Chara's lips spread into a tight smile. "Near to the end of the third night, Pareil was a child besieged. Those whose lives she had taken sought them with twisted, aberrant forms, crawling and clawing and moaning an endless perdition. And the dead were not alone. Pareil's imagination wove a lucid nightmare without their consent, a battlefield from a century and more past. Around their plight, humans armed with dust-dimmed swords and tarnished armor laughed and offered no aid. _You are like us_ , the warriors said to a child in a dusty tutu and slippers filed to lethal sharpness. The dead of the war and of their own hands surrounded Pareil, twisted and scarred. They gibbered, they roared, they amalgamated, a mass of horror dragging itself towards a murderer."

Frisk was curled into a ball now, and Chara cut off, a pained look on their face. "Frisk, I..."

Frisk shook their head. "I'll be okay," they whispered hastily. Their eyes peeked up. "What role did Pareil give you?"

"Pareil wasn't even thinking about me anymore." Chara's smile was still thin and wide. "I was just... myself. That might have been for the best, however. Pareil had no idea of my 'partner', after all, so they never included it when they wove my role. But, freed to shape myself within the dream..." They shook their head. "Well. Suffice to say I had little trouble. Soon Pareil and I were alone again. When we at last spoke, I was firm with them. That nightmare had arisen from guilt. Pareil had been lying to themself for days, trying to justify something they abhorred. Whatever their reasons, it had to stop. 'You do not want this,' I remember telling them. 'Killing is not who you are. Forbear, and if it costs you, I will ensure you can continue on. What determination I have is at your disposal.' Pareil nodded, and I led them to a small rise to watch the sunset together before we bid each other a proper good-night."

Frisk nodded. "So you went back?"

Chara sighed. "Well. As far as we could. Pareil wasn't willing to give up over a year of their life, or fake all that time with Toriel again. I insisted they finish sleeping first, and dispense with lucidity until morning, but when Pareil woke, we went back to the previous day, and the events played out this time without any monster dying. But, any who had perished before that morning? They remained dust." They shook their head. "Sometimes I wondered if Pariel preferred it so. There was still dust on their tutu and guilt in their heart, that way."

Frisk shifted. "Wasn't that why Rhein wouldn't go back?"

Chara tensed. "I can see the similarities, I suppose. But tonight is Pareil's story. You have already heard his." They turned in the air until they were floating on their back. "We made our way through Waterfall after that, only to hit the worst of roadblocks."

"Undyne?" Frisk turned to keep facing Chara as the other child floated beside them.

"Undyne." Chara nodded. "Captain Undyne of the Royal Guard, who by royal decree had forbidden the Riverperson from taking anyone to a place they had not yet visited. This left only one path into Hotland, and there she was, waiting. Posing, rehearsing a grand speech, larger than life. Pareil waited politely as Undyne unfolded the woes of the kingdom. The war, the erection of the Barrier, the advent and loss of 'the hope of humans and monsters'..." Their voice caught. "And Asgore's declaration of war. Pareil's soul was forfeit, Undyne declared, for every moment they kept it was another moment monsters would suffer. Humans had torn away the Underground's hope, and so humans would have to pay whatever price was necessary."

Chara chuckled. "When she had said her piece, Pareil stepped forward, and Undyne struck. And then Pareil died several times in rapid succession, because Undyne is a terror. I tried suggesting Pareil use their magic - I had the thought that even when wielded by a human, magic would be far less injurious to monsters than physical blows - but they flat-out refused, saying that they had not learned magic from Toriel just to have another way of hurting people." They threw up their hands. "They didn't want to kill, but they also refused to fight with a far less lethal tool. Honestly."

Frisk considered this. "Pareil's magic was for dancing." They shifted. "So what did they do?"

Chara shrugged. "Honestly? They backed the hell out of there. We were both starting to run low on determination after dying so many times, and Pareil still refused to consider striking Undyne down. I offered, but, well." They chuckled weakly. "Anyway, they retreated to Waterfall, and that's about where we found out about the Riverperson. For now, there was no way forward, and Pareil decided on seeking somewhere to rest. Luckily, I knew Waterfall well enough from the time I'd spent there with Kythra, so I was able to catch Pareil's ear and point them to a thick stand of seagrass where nobody should be able to spot a human without literally tripping over them."

Frisk laid back. "What's Waterfall like, anyway? You were going to tell me..."

Chara floated above Frisk, their back to them. "Oh. I did plan on it, sometime during Kythra's story... I suppose I just got caught up in the tale." They glanced over their shoulder at Frisk. "Waterfall is my favorite region outside of New Home itself, and not only because it lacks the temperature extremes of the other two. It is a system of caverns that contain the deepest points in the Underground, eroded by the still-drizzling water from above. In fact, there are so many areas where water still drips from the ceiling like rain that monsters have set up baskets of umbrellas at either end. There is far more plant life there than anywhere else outside of perhaps the king's gardens. Great stands of wavering grass, delicate fields of echo flowers, water lilies as far as the eye can see..." They paused. "Everything is beautiful. There is even an overlook from which you can see clear to Asgore's palace. Somehow, even with their hope gone, their capital still shines as brightly as the day I first saw it."

A long sigh escaped Chara's lips. "Small wonder he chose to put it there..."

Frisk blinked. "Put what in Waterfall?"

Chara's eyes snapped wide open. "Nothing. Nothing at all." After a moment, they sighed again. "... A memorial, commissioned by the king. Pareil visited almost every day after their retreat from Undyne to tend to it. It's very old, and the water from above has worn it down. Pareil spent a fair number of practices there, despite the rain."

"... a memorial to him?" Frisk's eyes were lower than usual.

Chara froze. "To what the king lost," they said at length. "Enough."

Frisk's hand was already circling on their chest. "Did someone trip over them?"

Chara thought back a moment. "Ah, no. But, the next morning, when Pareil woke and left the grass, there was a monster right in front of them."

"What kind?" Frisk's hand stilled, and they peered up at the child above them.

Chara turned on their side, hands gripping an invisible rail. "A ghost, actually. One of Blook's cousins, I would guess. They gave an odd little laugh and asked if _the two of us_ were also interested in joining the Human Culture Club."

Frisk lit up. "That's right, Blooky can see you!"

Chara nodded. "Apparently, any ghost can. I'm fairly sure at least one of the departures of that dummy's inhabitant was due to my poetry. Pareil and I both decided we might as well see; they told the ghost that we hadn't heard of it before, but we wouldn't mind having a look. Apparently that day and that place were to be the latest meeting of its two current members. The other member was running slow, however, so Pareil and I took the opportunity to introduce ourselves. The ghost hesitated to reciprocate, and eventually they said that they were unsure they wanted to keep their current name anymore."

"'Hashtag relatable'?" Frisk spoke the words with an obvious unfamiliarity.

"Leave the memes to me, Frisk, especially if you don't get them. Anyway, 'tfw' is more appropriate to that sort of situation." Chara winked. "Pareil actually lit up a bit when the ghost said that, and suggested they try out some names to see if they liked them. They said they had taken their own name from 'parallel', and suggested our new acquaintance try starting with words and working their way up." They scratched their head. "I suppose it was obvious considering they were Napstablook's cousin, but most of the words they liked were related to music. 'Tone' seemed to stick with them, but they were stymied there until I suggested 'Toni', to match their feminine presentation."

Frisk tilted their head. "Feminine? Like how I like nail polish?"

Chara nodded. "They had hair, somehow, styled in this ridiculous eye-covering wave. And they _loved_ pink, sparkling things. I could've easily seen them sitting down with Peloche to do her favorite sort of things. Not to say they _were_ a girl, mind you. But they seemed to like a feminized version of 'tone' well enough, and gleefully introduced themself to us by that name."

Frisk scratched their cheek. "So... was Toni like you and me?"

Chara shook their head. "Ghosts don't _have_ a gender, Frisk. Usually, anyway. You and me, we're neither boys nor girls, but we're still _something_ , even if it's hard as hell to explain what that something is to binary folks. Toni lacked any gender at all. Pareil was the same way, actually: agender."

"... Anyway, that's when _Alphys_ showed up, carrying a projection screen and followed by some sort of weird robotic table." Chara shook their head. "Really should have seen it coming. Alphys couldn't see me, of course, but she recognized Pareil as a human right off the bat. Not that she objected to our presence; I think she was more worried whether Pareil might consider their little club 'appropriation' or something. We ended up spending a chunk of the day just relaxing and watching Alphys' anime. Toni didn't seem to like them all that much, but Alphys..."

Frisk burrowed a little deeper under their covers. "So did you two join?"

Chara shrugged. "We did, but it was always Toni and Alphys' club. We were just friends who they let share the fun." They shrugged. "They both promised not to speak of us to anyone, of course. Alphys told us that we should stick to the sea grass, because she'd circulated a rumor that it was endangered."

"Why would she do that?" Frisk peeked their chin out of the blankets.

"Because you need it for ice cream." Chara's face was perfectly serious. "So we used that patch as a place to rest, and hide Pareil's possessions. We talked more openly after that; Toni knowing I was there made it seem a little silly to keep our conversations to only Pareil's dreams. Although, they had roles a-plenty for me now that their guilt had ebbed. Their dreams took on their familiar vibrance, although never quite without dilemma or doubt." They paused. "And, as well, they never wove a role for me where I was without my partner, either."

Chara shrugged. "Either way, Toni did stop in to visit Pareil a lot. I think Alphys wasn't over Kythra's death, so it was just us. A human child and two radically different varieties of ghost." A snort. "Pareil would dance for us, sometimes. They really only ever improved; every dance in those days was perfect, fluid motion and shimmering magic in a pattern that was only ever Pareil's. Once, after Pareil had stopped, Toni confided in us their own dream."

Frisk lit up. "What was that?"

"Stardom." Chara's grin was fierce. "They wanted their name to be on the lips of every monster, and every utterance of that name to be in raptured awe. The shining star of the Underground, a dazzling joy to light our existence in the darkness of the caverns. That was their dream. But they wanted to do it as their true self, and for the name all would shout in joy at the merest hint of their presence to be their true name."

Frisk's eyes closed a moment. "True name, I understand. But true self?"

Chara shrugged. "Well. Just as I can make use of the body of my companion, a ghost monster can gain a corporeal form. They just need a suitable body to possess. Like 'the apple of my eye', right? But, for Toni... it could not be just any body. Toni envisioned a body of metal and magic, the pinnacle of flair and elegance, a body of perfected beauty." They paused, one eye closed and the other eyebrow cocked. "I found the thing so melodramatic I considered pretending to vomit. Pareil, however, was thrilled. Such _joie de vive_ , they insisted, should not go unrequited. And, so, when Toni had left, I told Pareil of Alphys' skills. She was a brilliant engineer and knew intimately almost every technology in the Underground save for the Core itself, and she had worked extensively with a genuine human soul. If anyone could build a body for Toni, it would be Alphys."

Frisk beamed. "So you called her?"

Chara snickered. "Pareil did. I'm a little too incorporeal to use a phone, and a bit too inaudible to anyone who is not you or a ghost monster. But, sure enough, Alphys showed up to the next society meeting with a double armload of concept sketches and a robotic easel following her behind, ready to accept even more."

Frisk nodded. "Robots!"

Chara laughed. "Yes. The four of us set out to design and build a robot that would be Toni's corporeal form, and Alphys' ticket to becoming Royal Scientist." They smiled. "After all, it would be a robot operated not by remote command or an integrated AI, but by the soul of a living monster. A robot with a soul. How could that fail to catch Asgore's eye? Not to mention Alphys would have her other inventions to prove her experience working with human souls. Asgore would be tripping over himself to offer the position, and Alphys knew it."

They paused. "As did Toni. Alphys was very up front with them about the proposal, at least. So, the meetings of the Human Cultural Appreciation Society became instead planning meetings for the design and construction of Toni's new body."

Frisk blinked. "The name changed."

Chara flapped a hand. "That was Toni in a nutshell. Always aiming for grandiose." They smiled, tightly. "Toni was floored by the proposal, of course. We began planning, but pretty quickly Toni asked Pareil about culture aboveground. They wanted to be certain their body would appeal, that everyone would find it darling and dazzling and perfect."

"Pareil... refused, vehemently." Chara's smile tightened. "That, they said, was the one thing that absolutely should never be brought up. Bow even once to the demands of society, and become forever trapped by them. They became... passionate. 'Answering to expectations leads only to ruin. Your life will become one of judging and hollow gold and sneering purists and " _non, non, Marteli, danse seulement l' ballet appropriee!_ " Do not ever let them command you, _mes amies_.' We were... quiet for quite a bit after that."

Frisk's lip trembled. "They said... 'Marteli'?"

Chara winced. "Take a fucking guess, Frisk." Their voice was acid. After a moment, they sighed. "... no, that's not fair. You know damned well what was going on. Toriel did tell you that they repeated... certain words that they had heard in the past." They fell silent for a while.

"... anyway, Alphys finally ended up asking what I thought you asked. 'Who's Marteli?' Everyone else present just _winced_ at that, but I suppose Alphys had never really thought about that. Eventually I ended up speaking up myself. 'Whoever that person is, they're not here. I see the three of us, and Pareil. Right?' That... got Pareil out of their rut, a little. They started turning their words around. 'Your form is for you, Toni. Do you want to be a star solely because you did what others asked? Or will you claim stardom solely by being who you are? You are wonderful, _eclatant_ , perfect as _you_ are. Did you not say you would become the star of the Underground? You _are_ that star already, not something for others would mold into it.' I... have to admit, they were persuasive. Anyone besides me would have been easily swayed." They shook their head. "Then, Pareil told us about their own name. 'They wanted me to be a dancer without equal,' they told us. 'In me they saw a chance to silence their detractors, and someone who could help them rise in the world and provide better for themselves and for me. But I do not care for gold medals or high society. What I want is my own dance. I do not want to be the best, to stand  _above_ people. Alongside, different but beloved just the same as they are, is where I belong and who I am. I am not and will never be _l' danseuse sans pareil_ , and I took my name in defiance of them and in acceptance of myself. And, like me, you are an aesthetic unto yourself. You were born to be adored by and inspiring to all, and you will become the star of the Underground only through that aesthetic.'"

Chara sighed quietly. "Toni was ecstatic at Pareil's encouragement, and dove into the work. Soon Alphys and Toni were utterly immersed in design, wholly ignorant of anything in the world around them."

Frisk leaned up, a familiar smile crossing their lips. "And what about you two?"

"'I spoke those words for your benefit too, _mi compagne en rever_.'" Chara sighed. "Pareil picked up fairly easily on how I see myself. I mean. Let's face it, Frisk. I'm not a good person. Never have been. I've only gotten worse since dying, and I was pretty shitty even before that. But Pareil was so convinced I could be a good person. That I could be..." They bit their lip. "What they called me. What I so badly wanted to be for them. It's stupid. I never, ever could have even when I was alive. And now?" They shook their head. "But Pareil would always keep at it."

"I know what a bad kid looks like, Chara." Frisk's smile twisted as their teeth clamped on their lip. "You aren't one."

Chara stared for a long moment. "Frisk. Come on." They shook their head. "I know what I am. What I always will be." They began to laugh, softly. "Pareil used to insist that I was deceiving myself. 'Chara, if you truly hate yourself, what that means is that you are not the person you honestly wish to be.' They always seemed to think it was so... simple." Their eyes danced. "But of course, you and I both know the truth, eh partner?"

When Chara's laughter had petered out, Frisk reached their hand up, while their other circled on their chest again and again. Chara seized on it almost immediately with both of theirs. "You're hardly the one who should be required to apologize, Frisk." They closed their eyes. "Design... proceeded much as you'd expect. It was quickly decided that a simpler body would be their starting point, one that Toni liked and could begin their career in while the Royal Scientist Alphys used her new position and resources to complete their 'true form'. Apparently Alphys had some sort of anti-human combat robot she was trying to make in her spare time, and worked on modifying that. With Pareil's help to continue her research with Kythra, she was able to design the Heart Core System, which would allow Toni to not only anchor their soul to the machine but protect it with magic-infused material and empower the soul to control their metal body." They shook their head briefly. "It's a pretty impressive piece of technology. Pareil even borrowed some of Alphys' enhancers, and they couldn't even scratch the surface coat."

Chara sighed. "Only one last snag remained. A few days before we agreed to meet and perform the anchoring, Toni came and sought us out. After Pareil had finished their practice, Toni confessed they were having second thoughts. Wouldn't this be like leaving their cousin behind, all alone? Their other two cousins had already left to seek corporeal bodies; for now, it was just the two of them." They sighed. "Pareil insisted that Toni go through with it. After all, they challenged, was Toni really the sort of person who would leave their cousin all alone? If they were not, surely even with stardom in their grasp, they would remain a part of Blook's life. Toni left in high spirits, and we readied for the big day."

Frisk nodded. "Didn't Mom say Blooky's cousin has a show?"

Chara put a finger to their lips. "Blook also said they weren't supposed to mention it was their cousin! But I imagine... well. The transfer was tense, of course, especially with Alphys' perpetual self-doubt, but soon enough, the ghost we'd known for a handful of weeks faded out of view, and the HCS lit up with a gorgeous blue. Alphys installed it carefully, and suddenly the body she'd customized for them jumped to extravagant life. He thanked all three of us eloquently for our help and advice and support, then declared, among other things, that with this new form he wished to finally take on a gender. And, a new name. 'Toni was an excellent name, and I thank you deeply for it, Pareil,' he said. 'I will not forget it, either, but now I am not a pure tone. I am, darlings, a _metal_ tone! And so, from this day forth, I am Mettaton!' It was... certainly a _show-stopper_ of an experience." They snickered. "Alphys practically dragged him off with her in wild glee to perform the last tests and present him before Asgore, with one last 'See you in the spotlight, darlings!' echoing back. And us?" They paused. "We made for Hotland."

Frisk tensed. "But, Undyne..."

"She was there, of course." Chara shrugged. For a moment, they thought of Pareil, their dancing, leaping flight from Undyne's pursuit until she had collapsed of exhaustion and heatstroke. They had alerted Alphys, then made straight for the castle. "I'll... leave their methods a secret for the time being. I want to see if you can come up with an answer of your own. But they passed Undyne, without taking her life. And so we made our way to New Home."

Chara sighed. "There is one great difference between here and Asgore's castle. A great, beautiful corridor, every inch set with stained glass and backlit by eternal flames. In that place, the Final Corridor, we met with... a person who you will likely meet in the same place. His words were for one person only, and I will not repeat them when I was not meant to hear them myself. When we had finished, he vanished from our sight, and a moment later, Asgore was there."

Frisk lowered their head. "Did... Pareil fight him?"

Chara closed their eyes. "At first? No. Asgore was just as startled as every other time I'd seen him end up face-to-face with a human. Then, he bade Pareil take care of anything they might want to before facing him. Pareil's response was... well, dance, of course. I lack a watch, but I would swear that they danced for half an hour for the king." A long sigh escaped their lips. "When they stopped, they fixed Asgore with a steely glare. 'This is who I am,' they said. 'A person I have never been able to be until I met Toriel. This freedom, this acceptance, is something you have denied her for a very long time. How can you do such a thing to someone you love?' They moved closer to him. 'End this war. This is not who you are, King Dreemurr. This is not the hope you wish for.' I could feel their body tense. 'And if you do not heed my words, then I will win _mi maman's_ freedom by force.'"

"... Asgore's response would have rattled even my teeth, if I still had any." Chara's eyes snapped open. "Pareil responded in kind, of course. They were nimble, fluid, beautiful in motion. As they struck, and Asgore's armor boomed in the hall in response, they called out to him. 'Are we to dance thus, King Dreemurr?' they demanded. 'You and I, as puppets to what the world desires?' Another strike. Blood danced in the air, and Asgore's armor boomed out again. 'You must despise this as much as I! Lay down your weapon, and show them you are master here!'" Chara laughed, and Frisk trembled beneath them. "The next strike ripped soul from flesh. We found ourselves back in the hallway once more. Once more, Asgore faced us. Once more, Pareil found themself forced to dance."

Frisk shivered. "That's not dancing. That's not anything like dancing."

"Whatever it was, Pareil hated it to the very core of their being." Chara nodded. They were laughing in earnest now, barely forcing their words between bouts of racking, mirthless sound. "Again, and again. They danced, amid flames and the flash of his trident, and the spray of their own blood... I recall them demanding of me, at one point. Pain, regret, sorrow, these things were supposed to weaken monsters. How, then, could Asgore still claim their life, again and again? How could he stand so solidly, against their every attack? No matter how they learned new steps, to dance past his armament, no matter how many times they struck in kind, Asgore would not fall. But Pareil did, time and time and time again. They demanded of me why, and how."

"And... what did you answer?" Frisk's eyes were closed, heavy droplets pooling at the corners.

Chara sighed. "That Pareil had utterly and fatally misjudged Asgore. He was exactly who he wanted to be. King Dreemurr, the ruler and protector of all monsters. The source of the hope that kept them from literally choosing to lay down and die. Asgore was not bound by the expectations and demands of society that had driven Pareil to risk Mount Ebott in hopes of finding a home. He was bound by what he himself believed his people needed of him. He wanted to save his people. That is who Asgore Dreemurr was, and is."

Their laughter finally faltered. When Frisk looked up, Chara's eyelids were drooping. "I told them one other thing that this result was proof of. Pareil held no desire to kill. They were not, and had never been, a murderer. They would neither kill Asgore themself, or to become a conduit for one willing to do what had to be done."

"You don't mean that." Frisk's voice was sharp. "You don't want that either."

Chara let out a despairing laugh. "Sadly, I have never yet had a chance to prove just how wrong you are, Frisk. Pareil refused my offers to fight in their stead, even as their determination wore down to its last dregs. But, in the end, their _pas de deux_ was no puppetry on either side. Pareil and Asgore were both acting freely, bound only by who _they_ each were. A king who would kill himself with despair if it would mean hope and life for his people, and a child who could not allow the freedom of their cherished mother to be chained while they danced freely. As poetic as one of their dreams, Pareil fought Asgore one last time, and he pinned them to the earth beneath his weapon."

"I offered to help them. We could go back. Pareil could live their life with Toriel, spend their days happy and free, bring joy to a woman who had lost so very much." Chara hung their head. "They refused. To leave Toriel trapped was unacceptable. And so they raised their head. 'I was mistaken, King Dreemurr," they gasped out with the lung that was not pierced through. 'I enjoyed our dance greatly. You are every inch the king you wish to be.' Undaunted by the coldness seizing their limbs, they pressed on. 'But, in truth... I think I prefer "Asgore" to you. Perhaps you should consider whether that is who you truly wish to be. The stories I have heard of him... they make him sound as if you would enjoy that life far better.' Asgore hung his head, the light in the windows illuminating his tears. 'But if not I, then who? I am very sorry, human, but this is how it must be.' Pareil accepted this. 'True. It was but a silly, foolish thought from a silly, foolish child. Pay me no mind. In the end, my words are but those of _la demoiselle egoiste_ , after all.' And then... Asgore had five souls."

Frisk whimpered softly. "Those... can't have been Pareil's last words."

Chara shook their head. "To Asgore? Yes. To me, nearly. They thanked me for my company, and for never sitting out a dream no matter what the role I was given. 'I hope, at least in some small way, I have been a help to you, Chara,' they told me, as our connection frayed. 'Even hatred is not eternal, _mi compagne_. May you one day become the person you wish to be, and love yourself for it.'"

Frisk nodded. "That's... better."

Chara's smile sharpened. "I suppose an empty, doomed hope on behalf of someone like me is preferable to maligning and misgendering yourself being your last words." After a moment, they let out a soft cough. "... I'm sorry about tonight, Frisk. Even I'm not usually this despicable. I guess... Nothing about what happened to Pareil sits right with me. Do you understand, now, why I have to go? Why I need your help so desperately? You won't have to do a thing yourself, I promise."

"... We'll see." Frisk turned on their side. "Hey, Chara? When we leave, do you want me to look for your 'partner'?"

Chara's eyes widened. "I'd half-forgotten I even mentioned it." They considered. "It does have sentimental value. And it would be one hell of an asset in our own _finale_. But you're my partner now, Frisk, and you really are a hell of a lot better than that old thing. Not that I expect it even exists anymore. If either of them came across it, they'd probably destroy it on sight." They turned, leaning on the "rail" again, and gave a softer smile than usual. "But thank you for the thought, partner. You're... good to me."

"'s cause 'm not your partner." Frisk's voice was muffled by their pillows. "'m your friend."

Chara snorted. "I don't have friends, Frisk. Not since Kythra died. You're up there, but..."

Frisk grunted softly. "You don't have to be my friend yet. But I'm yours."

Chara turned to lay on their back. "Good night, Frisk. Enjoy pretending we've a bunk bed."

Frisk smiled into their pillow. "Night, Chara."

They didn't need to be able to see the other child's face to know they were smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. Pareil. Probably the child who's gone through the most changes in the writing. Originally the concept was simply a ballet dancer who rejected social restrictions and climbed the mountain figuring that either they would find somewhere that would be okay with who they were, or they'd at least be out of reach of the places that weren't. Going off of the in-game description of the tutu as "dusty" and the ballet shoes as making Frisk feel "dangerous" they were originally going to be aggressive and no-nonsense; the monsters were chaining Toriel and wanted to kill them, so they would strike back with equal steel.  
> Of course, then I ran into the twin questions of "well uh then wouldn't Chara be kinda livid about them like they were with Rhein?" and also "how do I actually reconcile this person with the child I wrote them as in Side A?" They also were originally going to just wander around in Waterfall for a while getting killed every so often by Undyne until their determination zeroed out. Their interactions with Hapstablook/Mettaton were not originally part of the plan either, but when I considered where Alphys would probably be in her researches after Kythra passed away, it seemed the obvious choice. (She gets there moderately soon after Asgore kills Pareil. Considering the situation he is more than willing to let her take a gamble on the souls and potentially not having to kill two more children.)  
> A friend pointed out to me, however, that Asgore hasn't directly dealt with anyone since Ypres, so I ended up torn for a while between Undyne, who by this point is deeply resolved to ensure Asgore never has to kill anyone else and who is absolutely who she wants to be, and Asgore, who had made little action for a while and who Pareil (and initially myself as well) sees as someone forced out of who he really is.  
> And then I rediscovered a little ditty by the name of "Decretum" and, after a few listenings, suddenly everything became clear. I therefore pass any blame for the feels on to Gen Urobuchi.  
> The line I'm trying to draw with Asgore is kind of fine, but in the end... Asgore -wants- to be the king of all monsters, to protect everyone and give them hope. It's what he has to -do- to be that person that hurts him. He's not bound and hurt by expectations like society tried to bind Pareil and their dancing with, he's bound by the needs of his people and the responsibilities of his office. He wants to be king, but it's killing him to do the things he thinks the king _must do_.  
> ... I guess what I'm trying to say is that Pareil is chaotic neutral until they meet Toriel and Asgore at least thinks that as king he's supposed to be lawful neutral?  
>  Pareil's true name is a bit of bilinguistic shenanigans. The phrase they mention, "le danseuse sans pareil", literally means "a dancer lacking any equal". However, "without equal" can also be synonymous with the phrase "unparalleled". Take out the "sans" and you're left with "pareil", and "sans" means "without" so take out the "un", and you're left with "pareil" on one side and "parallel(ed)" on the other. Their deadname, meanwhile, is taken from music theory; martele' (or martellato) refers to a forceful bowstroke that creates an effect very similar to staccato when playing a violin. They announced themself as agender at or about the same time they declared that they were Pareil and not Marteli and would be forevermore.  
> (Disclaimer: I am not French and never took it in school. If I've mangled something please feel free to bap me over it! Main translations: la demoiselle egoiste means roughly "a selfish damsel"; Pareil heard this one a _lot_ considering how much their parents were staking on their abilities. The sentence they recite during their near-breakdown is a demand that they only dance "proper" ballet. Also, "lapin" is "rabbit" because I figured not every child is going to see Toriel as a goatmom. They're thinking of her ears. "Mi compagne en rever" to Chara is my attempt to render "my companion in dreams".)  
>  With this posting I've officially exhausted my entire buffer, so the next pair might be a little longer in coming. I have a good sense of the yellow soul but I keep waffling between a few possible names and I've only just begun writing the part between the end of Pareil's story and the beginning of the next in between editing run-throughs of this chapter. Plus I kinda took a break from this story to bash out a 10k anniversary fic... ^^" I want to try for posting the yellow chapters next weekend, but we'll see.


	11. Justice, Side A ~ That All May Join Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Primary warnings for these chapters center around panic disorder; warnings in particular for both external and internal POV depictions of attacks. Additionally, warnings for allusion to PTSD or similar, flashbacks/nightmares, and trauma in general. Side B warnings for brief misgendering, reference to traumatic assault, as well as suicidal ideation.  
> Also side A features Frisk's turn to be in some very Bad Brain Weather over their own particular cocktail of worries, so tread with care.  
> I realize I may be taking a gamble with one particular aspect of the yellow child's backstory in Side A; please do not hesitate to point it out if I've made a mistake in how I've tried to represent things.

Toriel shivered slightly as she walked through the corridor. Even through her fur, she could feel the gentle wintry chill that made its way down, undeterred by the Barrier high above. This was the last place she had not yet looked; surely what she sought would be here.

For a moment, when she emerged, she could only see old stone pillars and a broad patch of soft yellow flowers. She shook her head. Had she passed them, then, in her search? She had left a note, but she should return soon.

She cast another careful look over the flowers, and then paused. There, in the middle, the blossoms seemed to part. She strode carefully to the edge, and then let out a sigh of relief. There, peaceful and still, Frisk lay dozing among the flowers, almost totally hidden beneath their leaves and petals. Toriel took a step closer, and then froze. White dusted over their blue sweater, their quiet face, their deep brown hair. She felt, for a moment, as if her soul had gone still and dark.

Minutes passed. Toriel slowly unclenched her fists. "Master yourself, Toriel Dreemurr," she murmured firmly to herself. "You can see them breathing even from here. _That_ was a very long time ago. You understand better now. You have _not_ failed. You _will not_." Hesitantly, she stepped through the flowers, forcing herself to shake from her mind the image of a still, pale form in a green sweater laying amid a spray of wildflowers that surrounded an empty throne, pure white dust scattered over their form and mingling with the blood that still shone wetly around their mouth and on their bared hands.

At the gentle touch of her hand, Frisk's eyes snapped open, and they sat up, shaking the snow from their hair. "Oh!" They stared up at her, shaking a little. "Mom? What's wrong?"

Toriel took a shaky breath. "It is lunchtime, my child. Past it, in fact. Did you perhaps forget your phone? I called you several times to ask you to come home."

Frisk felt in the pocket of their pale blue shorts. "It's here. Were you worried?"

Toriel shook her head. "It is all right, my child." She smiled hesitantly. "The Ruins no longer hold any danger for you, after all. I was not afraid, simply confused that you did not reply."

Frisk shivered a little bit, and looked down at their sweater as they absently dusted at it. Their eyes went wide. "It's... snowing?"

Toriel looked up. Clouds filled the sky over the opening above them, and in the soft light snow could be seen falling gently. "I suppose it is."

Frisk slowly got to their feet, letting some of the snow remain clinging to their sweater and their dark leggings. "Do you like snow, Mom?"

Toriel smiled. "I am more of an autumn sort, myself. Even fur can only go so far against deep cold." She put an arm around Frisk. "Are you all right, my child? Even in that layering you must be quite cold yourself."

Frisk held up their arms, and Toriel lifted them readily. "I... am a little chilly. Now that I'm awake." They shook their head. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Toriel blinked. She cradled Frisk gently against herself, her hands glowing gently as she fed warmth into the child. "For what would you need to apologize?"

"I scared you, didn't I?" Frisk winced. When Toriel looked questioningly at them, they closed their eyes. "Snow... looks like dust, right?"

Toriel lowered her head, nestling her muzzle against Frisk's cheek. "You are far too good to me, my child. I am... all right, I promise. Besides, you hardly intended such a thing. When you fell asleep, it had not yet begun to snow, had it?"

Frisk wrapped their arms gently around Toriel's neck. "I still scared you."

Toriel winced. "No. You just... reminded me of something that happened a very long time ago. Please, my child. You apologize for enough things without inventing wrongs where none exist." She shook her head. "Shall we go? Lunch is waiting for us."

Frisk glanced over Toriel's shoulder as she began to walk, taking in the lonely patch of flowers as white gently carpeted the ground beneath them. Some of the heads were already drooping gently with collected snow. "Will the flowers be all right?"

Toriel laughed softly. "They will absolutely be fine, my child. They are hardy, resilient flowers that have lived through far worse winters than the one this threatens to be. Even if I were not here to care for them, they would live on." She gently shifted her grip on Frisk, letting the child nestle into the crook of her arm. "What on earth brought you out so far today?"

Frisk closed their eyes again. "I was practicing with the dummy ghost again."

Toriel tilted her head. "I applaud your initiative, but surely you understand conversation will not avail should you face Asgore." She sighed. "And I do not think the two of us should face one another again just yet."

Frisk paused. "I wasn't practicing talking." They crossed their arms quietly. "I was... showing mercy."

Toriel managed a weak smile. "Asgore will never accept that either, my child," she said softly. "But it warms my soul that you are considering such tactics."

Frisk sighed. "I still need to reach him." They shifted. "I went looking for Blooky after."

"No luck?" Toriel shook her head. "It is not as if they visit every day, you know."

Frisk nodded. "I was close by, so I decided to rest there." They shook their head. "I didn't realize there was snow here."

Toriel smiled softly. "There is plenty in Snowdin, but in the Ruins? Only there. That is the only place where the surface weather can reach; our magic keeps the rest of this place comfortable for living in for all the monsters here."

"Mom." Frisk's eyes peeked gently from under their lids. "If you don't feel good, you shouldn't pretend you do."

Toriel squeezed gently around Frisk, nodding. "Sage advice from your ghostly friend? I do agree, it is important to recognize your mood." She sighed. "I take it, then, that you have been feeling likewise?"

"I'm... ready to admit it." Frisk snuggled in a little more closely.

Toriel nodded. "Admission, however, is only the first step. It is also important to ensure that you can support yourself, or that you have people to support you." She raised a claw, and then let it gently press to Frisk's cheek. "And you must accept that this, too, is a part of you, and that you are none the worse for it. Do you understand?"

Frisk shifted so that they were pressing more firmly against the tip of Toriel's claw. "Even if that means I'm dragging people down?"

Toriel shook her head softly. "Every part of you is important and special and _you_ , my child. You are not a collection of separate things, wherein people can enjoy the best aspects and discard or neglect that which needs their support. A child does not consist of parts which are a delight and parts which are 'maladaptive' things which need to be trained out of them, or 'difficulties' that make them somehow less rewarding to raise and to love..." She tensed. "I... believe I should stop there. You were rather frightened the last time I allowed my frustrations to show. But..." She smiled. "If you take no other lesson from Pareil, take that, at least."

Frisk smiled sheepishly. "Caught?"

Toriel laughed brightly. "I would be surprised if you were not doing so. You pick up on things so easily, my child. Even the trace remnants of my brief moment of panic before." She let out a soft sigh. "Let us go home, yes?"

As Toriel continued along the path, Chara's voice hissed in Frisk's ear. "Wait. It's snowing... Oh, no. Frisk, does that ancient phone she gave you at least show what day it is?"

Carefully, Frisk slipped their phone out of their pocket, peering at it. Above a cheery message announcing, "You have nine new messages, my child. Should you not review them?" the phone displayed its middling battery life, a time decidedly subsequent to noon, and the current date.

"... I hate being right." Chara sighed audibly in Frisk's mind. "Stick close with Toriel, okay? She's going to be in a really difficult place for... likely the next few days. Tomorrow is... special."

Toriel smiled softly, running her claw along Frisk's cheek. "I am heartened to see that in fact you were merely sound asleep," she said, tapping the phone gently. "In any case, I have a few things to attend to this afternoon, and I am afraid I must insist you do not follow me for them. I have prepared some things to attempt independently, in lieu of lessons, but feel free to call me or ask when I return if you have any difficulty."

Frisk swallowed. "All right, Mom." Chara swore.

Toriel's errands took her a few hours, all told. Frisk called a few times, and hugged her tightly the moment she stepped through the door. Whatever she had brought back with her remained in bags tightly sealed by magic, and she slipped exhausted into her chair. "That was... more tiring than I had anticipated," she admitted. "Would you gather the ingredients for tonight, my child? I believe I have left open the recipe book to the page I intended to use..."

Frisk nodded. From the kitchen, they called softly, "I wanted to try asking for extra lessons tonight, but..."

Toriel shifted lightly in her chair and closed her eyes. "We shall see after dinner, I suppose. If I am too tired, I promise I will let you know. What did you want to learn about?"

Frisk smiled shyly. "I never asked what sort of dance monsters like." They paused. "And... maybe baking, together?"

"I have not danced in a long time myself, to be honest." Toriel sighed.

Frisk paused, hand halfway to the shelf. "No partner?"

Toriel sighed wistfully. "I am afraid not. But I suppose we could find a way to be each other's, for a time." She chuckled. "And I have no opposition teaching you to bake. It would not require much effort on my part, either. But I must insist on keeping at least some of my recipes a secret. I can hardly entrust even you with the key to an unlimited supply of my special pie, after all."

Frisk pouted. "Mom is thinking of new ways to keep me from leaving?"

Toriel laughed gently. "How could it be new? You do not possess the capacity to replicate _my_ recipe, you realize. Even Ypres never was able to match it."

"You just don't want me to trade it to Asgore for my safety." Frisk was peeking around the door now, a wide grin on their face.

Toriel smirked. "Truly, that would be the most utter of defeats," she said in a deadpan voice. "I take it you have gathered all I need?"

Frisk held up a single finger and ducked back into the kitchen. After a moment, Toriel roused herself and followed them, pale orange already gently wafting from her hands as she readied magic. "Let us begin with a review of preparation methods, then..."

The next morning, Frisk slept deeply, and pouted a little when they finally blinked their eyes open and peered groggily at their phone's clock. "Mom didn't wake me..."

"Probably busy." Chara was floating idly near the ceiling, arms crossed and avoiding Frisk with their gaze. "I heard her go by your door several times. Not for a while though. C'mon, Frisk, go ahead and take a peek out, see if she's there."

Frisk yawned as they slipped out of bed, tugging their sweater carefully on and opening the door to peek out. Toriel was in the hall, frowning to herself, but she lit up as she saw them. "There you are, my child. I apologize, but I was so pleased to see you sleeping soundly for once that I wanted to let you rest for as long as you could." She tilted her head. "After all, today is to be all about you."

Frisk paused in their tracks. "Why?"

Toriel shook her head. "Today is a very special day to me. And to someone I once knew and loved very much. You still have not been able to bring yourself to tell me when your birthday is, and so I thought that, perhaps, you might be willing to share another's in the meantime." Her smile faltered. "They are, after all, not presently able to appreciate it."

Somewhere in the back of Frisk's mind, someone was laughing. Their right hand dove under their left sleeve, faded blue nails pressing into their skin as hard as they could manage. "I... that's okay, Mom..."

Toriel knelt gently and opened her arms. For once, Frisk didn't run directly into them. "If you are willing, I would very much like to celebrate your birthday today, my child."

Frisk's left hand darted inside their right sleeve. Trembling, they turned and pressed their back against the wall, shaking their head until their muddy brown hair fell in a curtain before their face. "I... Mom, please, I shouldn't..."

Toriel's face fell. "Please, my child. It is all right to accept..."

"No!" Frisk slumped further against the wall. "It's not..."

Toriel shook her head slowly. "... I am sorry, my child. I should not have sprung this on you." She sighed, and rose. "If you need space, please take as much as you need. I will let the others know you are feeling unwell."

Frisk's eyes shot open. "I... y-y-you... o-others?"

Their hands snapped suddenly into motion, frantic, and Toriel watched the child intently. "You do not need to decide this very moment," she said gently. "I only mean I will ensure they do not cause you further distress in their eagerness. It would... not be the first time they have done so, after all; they will understand." She sighed. "I do, already. I should not have pressured you like this."

She turned and made her way down the hall. Only when the faint sound of her voice from outside faded did Frisk make their way down the hall, still clutching their arms, ducking their head to avoid seeing the graceful banners happily proclaiming, "Happy Birthday, Frisk!"

The tree outside seemed to be still growing leaves, despite the lateness of the year and their tendency to immediately turn red and fall. Frisk flopped into the pile at its base, not caring when their elbow banked off of a root, and wriggled down until they were buried up to their neck. They squeezed their nails a little tighter and shifted back and forth against the dry, crinkly leaves. Then they leaned back a little further and started to laugh.

After Frisk had run out of breath, Chara sighed. "Just because it sort of works for me doesn't mean it'll help you."

Frisk nodded slowly. "Chara? Want me to just... step out, today?"

Chara coughed. Above, Frisk could see the red-eyed child appear, standing straight outward with their loafers flat against the trunk. "Frisk, what are you even talking about? I can't just roam around in your body for an entire day."

Frisk smiled weakly. "Just... think of it as a present?"

Chara rolled their eyes. "Frisk, I realize you are short and huggy, but that does not make you a hobbit. You do not need to follow their birthday conventions."

Frisk shook their head. "That's fine. It's not my birthday."

Chara shrugged helplessly. "Well, yeah, but you won't tell Toriel when it is, so..." They sighed. "Frisk, come on. What's eating you all of a sudden?"

Frisk curled into a tighter ball. Chara winced and rubbed their forearm. "I shouldn't get a birthday. I'm... I'm awful."

Chara raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, Frisk, don't go all Mob on me. You, of all people, awful?"

Frisk smiled weakly again. "On the bright side. You can stop calling yourself the worst human."

Chara shook their head. "Frisk, come on. Toriel wants to celebrate your birthday. So what if it's the wrong day? You can just celebrate it on the right one next year if it's so important."

"Chara." Frisk's voice was clipped. "I don't know what to do." Their breath was shaky and rapid now. "Mom worked so hard. Can't waste that. But... but I can't accept... I'm going to leave... I'm being horrible to her... why is she still..."

"You dummy." Chara hung their head. "Toriel _loves you_. Of course she'd do all this."

"What about you?!" Frisk glared suddenly upwards, heavy tears rolling down their face. "Stop pretending you don't care!"

Chara took a step back. "What the hell do I have to do with this? Frisk, just go enjoy yourself. Aren't you the one who keeps telling yourself you need to enjoy living with Toriel while it lasts?"

Frisk ground their teeth, and Chara put a hand to their own mouth. "I know what day this is, Chara! I'm not stealing _your_ birthday!"

"... you really are an idiot." Chara leapt lightly off of the tree and twisted in the air, landing gently in front of Frisk and holding out their hands. "I'm _dead_. I don't have birthdays anymore. Those are for people who didn't decide to go out choking on..." They clapped a hand over their mouth. "... Frisk, I'm sorry. But please. I don't mind, honest."

"Go ahead. I'll just... check out for today." Frisk's voice was bitter, and they pointedly ignored Chara's outstretched hands.

Chara knelt. "I won't do that. Frisk, please. Go and have fun. Eight years old is way too young to be tearing yourself apart over whether you deserve to have a damn birthday party."

"'m nine." Frisk's voice seemed more obstinate now.

Chara raised an eyebrow. "Not unless you've had a birthday since you came to the Underground. One you neglected to tell Toriel or even me about."

Frisk shivered. "I'd already started trying to leave."

Chara nodded. "Couple weeks back, then?"

Frisk glanced to the side. "Two months. Right in the middle."

Chara shook their head. "Listen, Frisk. This isn't even my real birthday anyway. I don't even remember when my birthday was anymore. _They_ sure as hell stopped caring pretty quick, and then I spent, oh, about two-odd years living in a place where nobody knew or cared. You know what today is?" They snorted. "It's the anniversary of the day I fucked up trying to kill myself."

"... The day you met _him_. Don't lie to me."

Chara winced. "Okay, fine. It's important to me, yes. It's the first day I lived here, in the Underground. The day I actually started caring about living." They shifted, but kept their hands out. "And if you want to have your very belated birthday today, I have no problems with that. Honestly, I don't."

"Please." Frisk clung to Chara's hand, finally. "Take the wheel. Go have fun. Enjoy _your_ birthday. I'm too awful to deserve one."

"Then why are you here crying?" Chara's voice softened. "Frisk, please. Go be a kid. You're _nine_. It's your birthday party. I give you my blessing to let Toriel be nice to you."

Frisk let their forehead touch Chara's hand. "I... shouldn't. My real parents didn't give me one."

Chara almost literally growled. " _Toriel_ is your real mother, Frisk. Go and let her make up for all the years you had stolen from you." They shook their head. "I'm not going to accept your entire birthday as a present. Even for you, that's too ridiculous."

There was a long pause. Chara stared. "You're seriously still considering it, aren't you." They sighed. "Frisk, please. I was already dying when this day came around the last time. She held a birthday party for me beside my deathbed anyway. Do you think I'm horrible just because I didn't turn her down? Even though I was already about to leave her?"

"You tried, didn't you?" Frisk looked up, finally, blinking away tears. "Chara... why is she so nice to us?"

"She loves us." Chara reached out to stroke Frisk's cheek gently. "I'll never understand why, but she does. And yeah, she wasn't having any of it when I tried to make excuses. Just like I'm not having any of it now. Got it?"

Frisk managed a tiny giggle. "Chara... thank you. If you weren't here..."

Chara shrugged lightly. "You'd be screwed, I know. You're so helpless, Frisk." They winked. "But lucky for you, you're stuck with this mess of a sub-human, who despite having zero redeeming qualities does actually want you to not be miserable." They pointed. "You are not a drag, and you are not awful. You are a Frisk. And I can guarantee that you are a good one. Now go. Be. Nine!"

Frisk whipped up a cheeky salute, and then squeaked as their phone rang. "Mom!" They scrabbled for the phone. "Did, um... did they all go home?"

Toriel's voice was warm. "Not a single one has. They are very insistent that you enjoy yourself today." She sighed. "I understand, truly I do. You are feeling guilty, are you not?"

"I'm trying to run away." Frisk's voice was steady now. "Isn't that bad?"

Toriel laughed softly. "Is that not all the more reason to enjoy what time we have together?"

"... where are you, Mom?" Frisk smiled, just a little more.

That night, when Toriel and Frisk finally passed the old tree again, Frisk flopped down into the leaves in a crescendo of crinkling bliss. "Thank you, Mom..."

Toriel beamed, hefting her bags carefully. "It was not only me, you realize. Everyone else in the Ruins was more than happy to gather for your sake." She shook her head. "I still must apologize for attempting to make it a surprise. It was not fair to force you to confront your feelings of guilt so suddenly and significantly."

Frisk slipped their hands into the sleeves of their sweater, feeling gently over the tiny colorful bandages along their forearms, four each in a neat little row. "I probably would've said no. Isn't today important?"

Toriel glanced away, and laughed quietly. "Are you not upset with me for that, my child? Holding your party today is partly for my benefit as well, when a birthday is supposed to be about you and you alone."

Frisk smiled softly. "But it's their birthday. I let mine go by."

Toriel shook her head. "Even so, is there anything else you desire? In my eyes, a birthday is a day on which you are allowed, nay, encouraged to want things."

Frisk stood up and swung one leg back and forth in the leaves. "But I've already got so much..."

Toriel laughed quietly. "And I have not even yet given you my presents yet," she teased gently.

Frisk thought of the bags Toriel was carrying, cute new leggings and bandages and tights and candies and echo flower perfume and a skirt or two and shiny new boots that actually fit and... They leaned against her, tugging gently on her robe. "Why is everyone so happy with me?" they asked. "It's my fault you're feeling so awful."

"Is that what you think?" Toriel knelt to press her muzzle atop Frisk's head. "You dear, silly child. You are a very great help to me. Merely having someone new to care for is a deep and beautiful joy that I have missed for decades. Seeing you healthy and happy and enjoying your life..."

Frisk's mouth was set. "I made you fight me. Every day."

Toriel sighed. "And any of those times I could have simply stood back and let you go. Instead, I _chose_ to force you to stay here, with me. I turned my magic, my fire, on the person whom I least of all should be attacking. I am feeling poorly because I am disgusted with _myself_ , my child. You are not to blame for my reaction to your decision. And my faltering is entirely due to what I have done." She smiled weakly. "Every child that has come into my life has left it. If you are so culpable, so detestable, should I not blame and hate them as well? I love all of my children, and that includes you most absolutely."

Frisk nuzzled softly in against Toriel's shoulder. "... thanks, Mom."

Toriel straightened up and smiled. "It has been a long and tiring day, my child. Shall we go inside and discuss this?" When Frisk nodded and scampered into the house, Toriel laughed gently.

She was far enough back to fail to hear Frisk whisper softly, "Thanks, Chara."

When Toriel unsealed the bag she had brought back out and Frisk peered inside, they almost shouted in surprise. With shaking hands, they clasped the lacquered wood handle and slowly drew it out, seizing on the long ribbon that trailed from the wood and fingering it almost desperately. "How...?"

Toriel beamed. "I saw how you looked when I spoke of the ribbons in Pareil's magic. And now that you have expressed an interest in dancing yourself, will you not require the proper aid?"

Frisk considered this. "I only saw people use these..."

Toriel chuckled. "Does it matter if you are doing it precisely right?"

Frisk turned and hugged Toriel tightly, still holding the handle of their ribbon in a death-grip. "Thank you, Mom..."

Toriel shook her head gently as she embraced the human child. "If you wish, I can teach you the beginnings of the waltz. That, I do possess experience with. I think baking will have to be put on hold for the night."

Frisk stared agape up at Toriel at her words. With a smile, she tapped her claw against the rune that adorned the base of their ribbon's handle and watched as the whole long length curled itself up into a tight roll. Gently setting it aside, she took both of Frisk's tiny hands in hers and stood to her full height. Frisk's eyes went wide as they felt their feet leaving the ground and they rose to eye level with Toriel. With a gentle smile, Toriel kissed their forehead. "Watch my paws carefully, and follow their motion as best you can," she said softly.

Before they knew it, totally lost in the motions, Frisk had danced with Toriel straight into their room. With a gentle sigh, Toriel let go of her magic and let Frisk land lightly on top of their bed. Frisk giggled softly. "Tired?"

"Of you, never." Toriel laughed. "I know you worry, my child, but growing exhausted is very different from finding a child tiring. I will never, ever feel the latter towards you. I promise this to you, with all of my soul."

Frisk leaned back, kicking their feet in the air lightly. "Mom? Can I ask one more thing?"

Toriel smiled. "Sit up, dear, and close your eyes. Ask while I am preparing your last surprise of the day."

Frisk did as they were told. "It doesn't have to be tonight. But there's one more child after Pareil, right? Before I came here?"

Toriel hummed gently. "Tonight would be surprisingly appropriate, to be honest. The last child to arrive before you entered my life felt very strongly about what they owed me and deserved in return, as you displayed today."

Frisk shivered pleasantly as they felt something winding tightly around their chest and arms, though the bulk of it settled around their shoulders and neck. "But you're sad about what happened..."

"Every child that I have raised has been a joy. Telling another of them recalls that joy." Toriel continued to hum softly. "I am more than happy to tell you the last tale I have to tell. And you may open your eyes now."

Frisk peered down, and gasped softly. Wound around them, snugly enough to pin their upper arms to their sides, was a long band of knitted yellow. Their fingers darted up to feel it, and they smiled hesitantly. "It's so long..."

Toriel laughed gently. "Its intended recipient had not yet grown to his full height yet. They insisted that it had to be long enough to make absolutely certain it would fit him even as a grown adult." She ran her claws gently over the green and violet patterns woven into the deep gold. "This is... one of the other things I retrieved from Asgore when I left New Home for good. It was woven by someone very special to me, and that person also enchanted it to preserve and protect it. Play with it all you will, stretch and pull as you wish, but it shall remain whole."

Frisk's fingers had found a patch with a very different feel than the rest, and they blinked as they lifted the end of the scarf. There, woven firmly from one edge to the other, was a symbol. A pair of wings flanking and three triangles beneath surrounded a brilliant deep-red heart. "It's like Mom's..."

Toriel looked down at the Delta Rune that adorned her own robes, identical save for a white circle instead of the red heart, and laughed softly. "That was akin to an insignia for its maker," she said. "Save for their first and largest project, you can find that symbol adorning every piece they ever knitted." She sighed contentedly as she settled beside Frisk. "Are you ready?"

Still kneading the symbol between their fingers, Frisk nodded and leaned into Toriel's lap. "Now," she said. "This happened quite some time before you and I first met, and yet quite some time after Pareil and I last spoke. Home had truly given way to the Ruins by that time, and of the dwindling population few could recall what a human looked like. I had been to the flowers just the previous day, but instinct had me go out on another visit with the other monsters living in the Ruins."

She paused. "One of the children was petulant when I stopped by at their house. They told me that they had seen a strange older monster with a red arm. The new monster had pointed something shiny at them when they and their friends tried to coax them into joining their games, and then ran away when the children tried to use their magic."

Frisk froze. "They... pointed with something? Something shiny?"

Toriel nodded gravely. "Nobody was hurt. The child told me they looked very frightened and couldn't keep their hand still. I drew as many details from the children as I could, and hastened towards the place the human had fled to. I found them slumped against the wall in the room with the concealed switches, with a Loox staring at them with his one round eye."

She shook her head. "The human wore a strange sort of soft leather shawl around their shoulders, and their uninjured hand was buried beneath it. When they saw me, instead of preparing to draw, they gave me a plaintive look. 'I know humans aren't especially welcome down here after what we did,' the human said, 'but do you have to go attacking me outright? I didn't come here to hurt anyone.' I scolded the Loox for picking on someone who was hurt and did not wish to play, and sent him on his way. Then I approached the human, palms upraised, slowly. It gave me time for a proper look. They were tall, older than most of the fallen humans, and dressed somewhat formally. A broken rope trailed from around their waist, and their left sleeve was sodden in red save for where a white fragment blossomed from the cloth."

Frisk paled. "But... the flowers?"

Toriel nodded. "I offered the human the aid of my healing magic, and apologized for the other monsters' behavior. It was common, I explained, for monster children to play with one another thus, and no genuine harm was meant. Their shoulders slumped with visible relief. 'You seem like someone who knows what's what around here,' they told me. 'Maybe my luck's not so dry after all today. There were some beautiful soft flowers back there, but I ended up missing them by a good yard and landed right on top of my poor arm here. I'd be much obliged if you can really patch it up.'"

She smiled. "I began to work at once. While even a compound fracture is not immediately life-threatening, the human had lost a great deal of blood, and the gash where the bone protruded could have been a vector for infection. Fractures are time-consuming to heal, however, and I could not complete all of it at one sitting. From what remained of the rope I fashioned a crude sling; it would have to do, I said, until we arrived at my home. The human looked... surprised, at that, but I introduced myself and offered my hospitality more explicitly. 'I'm much obliged twice over, then,' the human said. 'I'm Sabail. And it's "he", since you've the decency to ask.'"

Frisk nodded. "Humans still don't have the hang of that."

Toriel shook her head lightly. "Humans are beings of physical matter. I am not surprised by the stock they mistakenly put in such things." She sighed. "Sabail and I made our way home, and we shared a meal. After it was over, Sabail leaned back in his chair and rather firmly asked what he should be doing around here to help out, once he was healed. He would not take 'nothing' as an answer, either; tending to his injuries and offering him shelter was a debt in his eyes, and he refused to consider not paying it." She chuckled. "I told him if he was that set, I would consider some chores for him to perform. But I insisted that, if he would accept, that I would happily act as his family would. And no child should feel beholden to their parents in exchange for their care."

Frisk curled up a little bit, and Toriel wound her arm around them. "I will never budge on that belief, my child. You owe me nothing; I have cared for you because I want to, and anything you do for me in return should be done for the same reason." She smiled weakly. "And, in truth, merely having someone here to care for is so very meaningful to me. Being able to take care of someone, having the chance to see them grow, is a balm whose worth I cannot describe. I told Sabail this, and he seemed... satisfied." Her claw gently pressed against Frisk's chin. "On that note, please do not feel so guilty about today's events. Seeing you so unguarded and happy was... more than worth the effort it took. And I did have the help of most of the monsters of the Ruins. Everyone is very fond of you, you realize."

Frisk smiled gently. "I thought... it wouldn't be right. I shouldn't be rewarded. Or get to steal someone else's special day." They shook their head. "But it was fun."

Toriel nodded gently. "Sharing is not stealing, my child. Today was a very special day for me as well. By taking today to honor and love you and remind you that you are someone who deserves very much to be cared for and be happy, I also was able to fondly remember someone who often needed very similar reminders. You and they are very different, my child, but still you remind me very much of them." She shook her head. "Sabail, too, was adamant about not accepting things if it 'was not right'. I lost count of the times I would hear things like, 'Begging pardon, Miss Tori, but I'd be awful sore with myself if I let you do that on my account.' But I am getting ahead of myself again. Sabail was startled by my offer, and seemed also confused, as if wondering why I would need to do such a thing. But, he suggested we both rest and get an early start. There were quite a few things he wanted to know, but he did not want to keep someone my age up late."

She snorted, and Frisk giggled. "Silly old lady?"

"The next morning," Toriel continued with a raised eyebrow, "Sabail rose before me, and I tended to his arm again. When I had finished, Sabail finally removed the wide-brimmed hat he had worn the whole time and hung it on a peg. Then he turned to me. Without the hat shading his face, I could see him more properly. He had a striking profile: straight charcoal hair that cut off almost knife-sharp at his chin, softly toned beige skin, eyes as grey as rain. But his words were more striking. 'You really all right with putting up a human like this? I can read between the lines of history books. I know what we've done to monsters.'"

Frisk lowered their head, but Toriel drew them closer. "My answer was simple. I asked what he had done, personally, to harm me or any other monster." She smiled. "His answer was to ask if I was by any chance the leader of the monsters. 'Long shot, I know, but those happen to be my specialty. And you definitely have the temperament a leader needs.' I asked what he needed with the king of monsters, and he told me that it was long, long past time that humans try to reach out to the other race that they once shared our planet with, and make reparations for what had been done."

Frisk stared up at Toriel. "He wanted to meet Asgore?"

Toriel nodded gravely. "Sabail wanted to reach out to monsters, as an ambassador. 'Not the easiest first mission for an aspiring diplomat, I know, but nobody else seemed even interested,' he told me with a laugh. I... felt it would be cruel to not speak. I explained carefully to Sabail the full particulars of the Barrier. He..." Toriel suddenly adopted a rather bright smile. "He made use of some language I had to be very cross with him over." She shook her head. "And then he tried to recover. 'Maybe I can figure out something. Coax someone to the human side of the barrier, communicate through it. It's long past time the wall comes down anyhow. I mean, considering the welcome I got, there's five other humans who've been living here just fine, 'less they got old and passed on. I'd say that's plenty of proof monsters don't want to hurt us.'"

Frisk winced. "... you told him about them too."

Toriel closed her eyes. "I did. He tried to comfort me. He told me that it must have meant a lot to the other humans to be taken care of like that. But he seemed... strangely energized. It was not until later that I understood. Sabail saw the situation as an opportunity to do something. Our situation rankled at him. It was not _right_. He had come to monsters as a human seeking to do good for us, and Asgore was that chance." She shook her head. "If he really had been unable to do anything, I imagine it would have crushed him deeply."

Frisk nodded. "So... what did Sabail do?"

Toriel shook her head. "Sabail made no secret of his plans. He asked me to teach him all I could of our history as we knew it, rather than the 'back-patting tall tales' that he alleged made up human stories. He also asked if there was anyone here in the Ruins who could teach him more of diplomacy. How to be savvy with one's political opposition, how to carefully distill varying desires and needs into a perfect cocktail that fails the least to please all parties involved, how to guide a cornered monarch into gracefully changing the course of his kingdom..." She sighed. "Sabail vowed to me that when he was ready, he would go and reunite the Underground."

Frisk nodded slowly. "Sabail was going to be a diplomat."

Toriel shook her head. "Ambassador between Toriel and Asgore, and perhaps one day between humans and monsters. He did not have Kythra's optimism, but he felt he had to try. I promised him, in turn, that if he would accept my judgment as to his readiness, that I would teach him all I knew."

She sighed. "But before that, there was one further matter I could not defer any longer. An ambassador has no need for a weapon, I asserted. I asked Sabail to surrender his."

Frisk's eyes squeezed shut. "He didn't hurt anyone, right?"

Toriel closed her own eyes. "Sabail had a fair few reasons for not surrendering his weapon. It was an heirloom, he told me once, that belonged to a relative long ago who was a 'sheriff' who helped to tame the West. He was someone who understood not only the skill but the philosophy of carrying such a weapon, and who knew full well the gravity of a life stolen. He could not use it properly in any case while his arm was recovering from being smashed to flinders. He had no desire to harm anyone in the Ruins, knowing that none of them meant him any harm in return."

She sighed. "I found out all of those reasons much later, over the time we spent together. The one Sabail gave that first day was to back immediately away from me and stammer a protest that he needed to be able to defend himself. That even in exchange for my hospitality he could not surrender his only means of protection. I... pressed the issue. A weapon like that is a horror to monsters and humans alike, and I feared, too, the temptation it represented. Sabail drew even further back. 'I'll understand if you want to throw me out, but I can't do that. I have to be able to protect myself.' When I tried to ask what he needed protection from, he shook his head and became totally silent."

Frisk whimpered. "He didn't hurt you, did he Mom?"

Toriel shook her head quickly, and let her claws press gently down against Frisk's midsection. "No. He did not draw it. But neither would he surrender it. He had backed into a corner by now, and flinched away from my attempts to reach out to him." She breathed in, slowly. "I did not understand, but what solace is that? I had frightened him, terribly, and so I withdrew. I was... ashamed of myself. Worse, I could think of no way to calm Sabail. I could not abide the thought of a firearm in my home, in this place where all are under my protection, and yet Sabail seemed incapable of feeling safe without it at his side."

She sighed. "Can you imagine my consternation, some time later, when Sabail came to me and _apologized_ for being driven into a panic? 'Truth is, I haven't felt safe in a long time,' he told me. 'Even though I know nobody down here wants to hurt me - you showed me that plenty of times over - I'm afraid of being defenseless. But that's not fair to you or any other monster. It's not trust. I came down here to reach out, but here I am making you scared of me. And I'm sorry.' He offered a compromise: he would retain his weapon, but surrender its ammunition. I apologized as well, for making him feel unsafe in what was, for the time being, his own home. And if he felt the need to be able to protect himself..." She drew a long breath once again. "Then I would personally train him in combat magic."

Frisk rubbed their chin. "Does that hurt monsters less?"

Toriel nodded. "Most definitely. In addition, choosing to wield magic rather than a physical weapon lessens the killing intent of an attack. Our defenses against magic are higher, and a human who casts magic is making a conscious decision to use a power that they believe less damaging." She paused. "That is not to say it cannot kill. But one must do so deliberately. It is safe for a trained human to spar with monsters, and indeed Sabail would do so at times, though never without informing me so that my healing might be at the ready."

Frisk shifted. "Was he any good?"

Toriel patted Frisk's hair. "He could hold his own, certainly. Shimmering arrowheads and delicate fletching were his bullets of choice. But one day he surprised me." She chuckled. "I had taught him combat magic, yes, but I was not expecting him to craft that magic into a personal weapon."

Frisk blinked. "Personal...?"

Toriel nodded. "Some monsters' magic allows them to create not only ephemeral attacks but a solid weapon to wield, unique to that monster. Gerson, an old acquaintance of mine who lived in Waterfall when I sealed the Ruins, could form a great warhammer in the shape of a fist. A family of owl-like knight monsters have passed down a mighty spiked flail from parent to child for centuries." She paused. "And, of course, there is Asgore. A great trident, its prongs flowing and graceful and its whole length livid with bright orange flame." She shook her head. "There was a time I felt safe to have that weapon by my side. But, of course, now there is but one purpose he puts it to."

Frisk's eyes widened, but when they opened their mouth, no sound came out. They considered, and then said, "What about you, Mom?"

Toriel shook her head. "My fire has always been enough for me." She smiled. "Sabail, on the other hand... well, apparently he had been meditating outside of our scheduled lesson time. Considering our curriculum of monster history, diplomacy, debate, political discourse, and magical combat, I found this impressive. He was very driven, just as you are. And that drive paid off with literal beauty."

Frisk nodded. "What was Sabail's weapon?"

Toriel beamed. "A bow. Golden and curving as naturally as if it had grown in that shape, with a grip of pure white bark and the limbs adorned with tiny vines bearing clovers. Around the top wove the stem of a single camellia, and about the bottom curled a sprig of wintergreen. He drew its string, and a straight shaft of silvery light appeared, ready to fly and strike with breathtaking speed and unerring precision. Sabail once launched a shaft from the streets of Home that cored an apple I had placed on the lip of the parapet."

She shook her head. "But we are becoming sidetracked, proud as I was of his abilities. Sabail was an excellent student. To sharpen his political footwork, I had him engage in debate after debate with me. To improve his empathy, I had him assist me with caretaking in the Ruins, and found him in precious little need of it. To train him in compromise, I set him to mediating the occasional disputes between monsters and set before him problems that had, before the sealing, arisen in the Underground at large." She smiled, somewhat sharply. "That last was always most difficult for him. He would spend hours into the night arguing passionately with the old tree out front, trying to find a new angle, a new way to evade the limitations I placed upon him in hopes of finding a solution that harmed none. It was also a chance to teach him about our history, however, to compare his proposals to what we had done." She chuckled. "I recall being asked a fair few times if I were sure I was not the ruler."

Frisk giggled. "You're kind of like one. For the Ruins." They shifted. "And you think like one."

Toriel smiled. "Well, I suppose these long years have given me that kind of mindset." She shook her head. "It was certainly a boon when I was teaching Sabail. His passion and empathy were heart-warming to see as he grew and took on the skills needed to _act_. But, at the same time, empathy has always been a double-edged blade. Faced with someone one is unable to aid, one feels culpable for their suffering." She shook her head. "Sabail wanted dearly to help, but I could only tell him that he was not ready, no matter how it hurt him. And for my own part... I was not for very long able to pretend that I was not training one of my children to depart on an errand that they would die on. Nor was I enthused to take on an old role once again." She laughed quietly. "Faith was... something I found difficult, in those days. I am not proud of it, but I declined once again. I allowed Kythra's notebook to gather cobwebs, and I let the lessons held within sink away from my mind."

Toriel lowered her head. "Sabail, of course, was not ignorant of this. Bless his heart, he had no idea how to properly aid someone in my place, but he drove himself near to madness trying. He insisted on taking on more and more of my share of the work. He had no idea how important that work was to my health, and I was in no state to warn him or protest." A sneer curled her muzzle, for perhaps the first time in Frisk's memory. "Pathetic, was I not? By the time Sabail discovered Kythra's notes in a frantic fit of cleaning, he had begun to genuinely fear that, well." She closed her eyes.

Frisk wrapped their arms tightly around Toriel's waist. "You said you'd tell me."

Toreil shook her head. "I have not been that far lost in a long time, my child. I am weary, and sick at heart of our conflict, but I have been taking care of myself. And you..." She smiled. "I will say this as often as it takes. Taking care of you makes me feel deeply at ease." She shook her head. "But back then, I could not even take care of myself, much less the young man who had fallen into my life. Sabail may well have been right to fear what might befall me."

Frisk buried their face in Toriel's fur. "But what if I..."

Toriel let her claws gently tangle in Frisk's hair. "You will not. I will not allow myself to falter that way." She shook her head. "I was careless with Sabail. I most likely thought on some level that I could simply fall back on him if need be. I ceased treating him like 'my child'."

Frisk nodded weakly. "Old role?"

Toriel winced. "You recall, of course, the stories of the war." She paused. "They are not stories to me, my child. I fought in that war. Asgore and I were always on the front, of course, but I also lent my mind to the cause. As both strategist, and trainer."

Frisk blinked. "You... taught monsters how to fight?"

Toriel nodded grimly. "Taught, and then watched them die. I knew, clinically, the power of a human who held murder in their heart. I was not prepared to see it in action. Nor was I prepared when my training of Sabail for an equally doomed mission forced those bitter memories to the surface."

Frisk peered up at Toriel. "You had bad dreams too."

Toriel's eyes crinkled, and she wound her arms around Frisk. "Yes. Yes, I did, my child." She drew a deep breath, even as Frisk felt droplets alight gently in their hair. "And like the fool I was, I pushed on training him. I forgot myself and leaned on a child I had once vowed to care for. And when I saw what I had done, I grew disgusted with myself. And worse, I dragged down Sabail with me, when he needed support of his own."

Frisk shifted. "What did Sabail need?"

She shook her head. "Sabail was a man who constantly grappled with fear. At times, it would sink its hooks deeply into him and leave him a trembling wreck unable to function for nearly an hour at a time. He would clutch his chest and breathe as if the air itself was fleeing his lungs, often backing against a wall or even crushing himself into the corner of whatever room he happened to be in. My approach at that time would make him react with obvious fright, and to touch him was unthinkable." She paused. "I feel as if I tried to hold him once, in the throes of his fear, but... I do not recall the outcome, nor entirely recall actually carrying it out."

Frisk looked glum. "Sabail was afraid? Of what?"

Toriel shook her head again. "I never truly knew. At times, it seemed of nothing at all. At others, Sabail seemed to be recalling something. Still others..." She closed her eyes. "I awoke from a dream, once, shaken and on the verge of tears, and I saw Sabail huddled in the corner across from my bed, his eyes locked on me and openly weeping." With a sigh, she buried her muzzle against Frisk. "And so there we were. A fool of an elderly woman who was letting herself collapse into a useless pile of self-pity and old memories, and a young man beset by his fears and wracked by his inability to help someone who had invited him to call her 'mother'."

With a long sigh, Toriel opened her eyes and smiled. "And Sabail... rose to the occasion magnificently."

Frisk's eyes widened, and they turned over in Toriel's lap to look up at her again. She nodded. "As I fell apart more and more, Sabail pushed himself further. He learned how to manage his fear, to politely recuse himself when it threatened to swallow him, to calm his racing breath. He even learned to accept the fear as a part of himself, rather than weakness to be disgusted with himself over." She smiled. "Mind, it was never absent from his life. I would not infrequently find him sitting in a corner, hat over his face and worrying at the fringe of his shawl or kneading the leaves on his bow with nervous fingers. But he carried on." She smiled. "He even began a secret project soon after my dreams began."

Frisk smiled. "Secret project?"

Toriel nodded. "I still have it hidden away, should my dreams return, but I have thankfully never needed it since we parted ways. But, one morning I opened my eyes to Sabail dozing against the wall beside my bed and a curious tear-shaped hoop hanging above my head." She chuckled. "I sat up to look, and soft feathers tickled my muzzle. The hoop was crossed by dozens of slender straps of the same soft leather that made up Sabail's shawl, and decorated by tiny copper ornaments, including ones of the sun and moon opposite one another. There was one fashioned in the very likeness of Asgore's trident, and another like unto a little dagger, as well."

She smiled. "When Sabail woke, he gently took it down. 'I'd best clear this, there should still be time to catch the dawn. I'll be back in time for breakfast.' He smiled at me. 'Dreams any lighter last night, or did I get it up too late?' When I registered confusion, he shrugged, and smiled more. 'Well, we can keep giving it a go. I don't think Asibikaashi would begrudge a fellow caretaker the protection of her weave.'"

Frisk tilted their head. "Dreamcatcher?"

"That is what he explained it was, over breakfast." Toriel nodded again. "He told me his people were the origin of the tradition, even if nowadays it has spread across the world. 'Mind, they'd ream me for using one like this,' he commented as he turned it in his fingers. 'But I figure the lady spider has plenty of time to make an exception, these days. Even a woman grown needs respite, and in your state I don't think you could gain anything of use from your nightmares.' He paused. 'Mind, they've plenty of reasons to ream me already. But, whether the others besides the few old grouches I tried to ask about our culture believe me or not...' He laughed. 'Mind, if you took a tithe of my heritage, maybe a tithe of _that_ would be shared with them. But I'd like to think I can still count myself among them, and that Asibikaashi will listen to me and help you. Give it a try tonight, please? Just make sure if I'm asleep to bring it to the flowers; the bad dreams, or so I've read, don't vanish until they're caught in the dawn.'" Toriel chuckled. "By the time he had finished, breakfast was done, and Sabail headed out to take care of the duties he had temporarily usurped from me."

Frisk blinked. "Sabail was taking care of the monsters?"

Toriel laughed weakly. "It is not as if I were capable at the time." She sighed. "That goes for all of the monsters, mind you. When Sabail found Kythra's notes and realized that not only had I been depressed before, but that another human before him had cared for me in that depression, he changed tack that very day." A gentle smile broke across her face. "I owe them both so very much. Kythra cared for me and took the time to understand what I needed most, and Sabail was willing to push himself as much as he needed to ensure I would get it. I found myself ushered from bed each morning and gently pressed into doing what chores Sabail judged I had enough energy to carry out. We alternated making dinner, but baking was always mine to handle, and Sabail always had some sweet he would gently request I make." She paused, and then giggled. "He would always make me go with him, too, when he went to oversee the care of the other monsters. I was rarely able to bring myself to shoulder their troubles, but he encouraged me to try, no matter how utterly _childish_ I was acting that day. I remember, not only a few times, monsters trying to quietly ask Sabail if I was retiring and whether he was going to take over my duties."

Frisk giggled a little. "But Sabail wouldn't let you."

Toriel sighed. "No. Sabail told any who asked that I was still the caretaker, and that he was making sure I was happy and able to help again. I resisted him at every step, but Sabail was firm. That dear empathy and his piercing ability to cut through deceit allowed him to put questions to me that I could not deny. I did not want to leave the monsters of the Ruins to languish without anyone looking after them all. I did not want to allow my house to grow filthy and the fires to go cold and the pantry to go empty of my baking. I did not want to force someone I had called 'my child' to perform all the things I believed were my responsibility. And I did not want to fall down." She sighed. "Sabail was a blessing I felt at times I did not deserve. But without that blessing, you might well have met a white-haired human with tired grey eyes the day you came here, rather than this silly old monster."

Frisk squeezed Toriel close. "Why not both?"

Toriel lowered her head. "Because as I started to mend, Sabail became more and more driven. He urged me to help his studies once more. He smiled less and less, he took to the corner more and more, and more and more frequently the scent of wintergreen would play throughout my home. When I saw his bow, the beautiful camillia had been replaced with a cluster of hanging yellow blossoms with petals like the peels of a banana. I... could not recall the species, far gone as I was. He began to amass supplies and debate over what was proper to bring along." She shook her head. "When I confronted Sabail at last over his desire to leave, he was adamant. 'You're on the mend now,' he told me, 'but this is only going to happen again. I have to find a real, permanent solution, and I know what it has to be.'"

"Asgore." Frisk trembled.

"His plan was what it always had been." Toriel sighed. "I objected, of course. Surely he could not think himself ready after I had faltered so utterly in my teachings. Sabail's response was to challenge me to debate then and there. I was soundly defeated." She laughed weakly. "I had taught him too well, in the time we had before I became too lost to genuinely teach him. I challenged that the wounds between us were too deep, that there could be no reconciliation with a man who desired only war. Sabail gave me no quarter. 'Even if you consider him unforgivable, do you want Asgore dead?' he demanded. 'For all your bitterness, you don't want revenge. You just want this to stop.' He sighed, and hugged me. 'You cared for him, once. I think there's a part of you that still does. Hell, I wonder sometimes if maybe you're the one you hate. But what Asgore is doing is _wrong_. He has to stop. The Underground has to become one again. And I can't stand sitting here without even trying, not one day longer.'"

Toriel paused. "I still do not know whether I was insulted by how far his words missed the mark, or frightened that he might have seen something I failed to. But I challenged him harshly in return. He would die, I told him. The monsters who followed Asgore would kill him, or bring him before Asgore to be slain. And I..." She closed her eyes. "I moved between him and the door, and told him that he would only leave over my dust."

Frisk nodded slowly. "You fought Sabail?"

Toriel trembled. "I did. But Sabail refused to hurt me. Shaft after shaft of his bow lanced through the air, within inches of me, as he stood firm against my fire. Not a single one struck. In his own way, Sabail showed me that he was strong, enough so even to end my life, but that he refused to do so. At the last, when my flames began to falter, he drew his revolver and fired two feet above my head. 'I am not the same frightened child whose weakness almost saw his father killed.' There was iron in his voice. 'Because of you, I'm not gonna die.' And then he held out his hand. 'But if you're so afraid on my behalf... come with me. Help me. For once, follow your child into the fray. The two of us together... Asgore won't stand a chance. He'll have to give in.'"

Toriel lowered her head. "In the end, I was the one who gave in. I... could not bring myself to leave. Faith had still departed me, and I..." She trailed off, helplessly.

Frisk nodded weakly. "You didn't want to see Sabail die."

Toriel shook her head. "And I did not trust myself. Were I to lose myself, and hurt Asgore..." She drew in a sharp breath. "Well. What good would it do to bring my bitterness to bear on the man responsible? Who would trust me to lead in his stead? Who would be left to do so instead?"

Frisk reached up to touch Toriel's muzzle. "... you wouldn't kill him."

Toriel gave a colorless laugh. "You do not know that for certain, my child. Even I do not."

"I do." Frisk's eyes were firm beneath their lids.

Toriel sighed. "Well. When I declined, Sabail nodded. He told me... much the same as what you have. But he understood. 'I promise you, then. I'm going to reconcile the Underground.' He picked up his pack, and turned to leave. 'I won't let you fall down. I'm going to fix this.' And then... then he laughed, and looked back. 'And if I don't come back? That'll mean I broke my promise to you, and whatever happens to me then has to be my just punishment.' He tipped his hat, and then..." She sighed. "Then he left. A grown man, setting out from home, driven by the desire to do what he knew was right."

Frisk looked up at Toriel. "I wish Sabail pulled it off."

Toriel looked taken aback. "Asgore would never allow it."

"I know." Frisk tucked their chin against their chest. "But... monsters are all monsters have."

Toriel squeezed them gently against herself. "I am... aware." She shook her head. "I do not begrudge those who leave here. I would not be angry with you were you to pass me, either. But the thought of you joining those who have gone before you..." She closed her eyes. "I do not want you to die. I was a contemptible fool to allow my other children to take that risk alone. Kythra and Sabail, at least, were adults by the time they parted ways with me. But Peloche was not much older than you, Ypres and Pareil still teenaged, and Rhein was barely older than..." She swallowed. "You are the youngest child I have ever raised. You have not lived for even a decade yet. I cannot allow you to go."

She rose, slowly. "I love you dearly. Six children have passed in and out of my life since Asgore declared war. Every single one of them has been taken from me. What you want, what Asgore wants, what the people of the Underground want, none of these things matter. Past that door lies your death, and the beginning of a war that will ravage your people."

Frisk lowered their head. "Still no faith?"

Toriel looked taken aback. "It is... not a question of..." She lowered her head. "... no, you are... right. I am sorry. But that is the case. I do not believe you will be able to survive."

Frisk nodded. "That's okay. I'll just prove I can." They smiled softly.

Toriel paused, lifting her head to look at them. "I do not want to see Asgore dead. And you cannot sway him with words and appeals. Neither Ypres' kindness nor Sabail's wit could convince him."

Frisk nodded again. "I understand now."

Toriel gently lifted the child into her arms. "Please. I cannot bear the thought of failing again. May I not be even a little selfish?"

"I thought it was _my_ birthday." Frisk's voice was warm as they hugged Toriel tightly.

Toriel laughed a little at that. "You do not plan to leave right away, surely?"

Frisk shook their head. "No. I won't try again for a while." They smiled. "I'll come back, you'll see. I love you, Mom. Good night."

Toriel held Frisk for a long moment. "... happy birthday, my child," she said at last, and gently set them down before slipping from the room.


	12. Justice, Side B ~ After The Storm Stills Its Wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warning (I neglected to add this to the previous chapter until it was too late): brief brush with/reference to transphobia at the very end of this chapter.

"Hey, Frisk?" Chara's words broke gently in on the other child's thoughts as Frisk sat with their blankets tugged close around them. "Do you mind if I take a..." They paused. "A more... direct look at your scarf?"

Frisk nodded quietly. "Is something wrong?"

Chara appeared beside the bed, leaning close to Frisk. "I don't think I can be sure without doing this. But there might be."

Frisk closed their eyes for a long moment. "Promise you'll stay here."

"Got it." Chara moved closer, and vanished. Frisk took a deep breath. Then, Chara heard a squeak in their ears as they settled in. "... hell's bells, that never stops feeling weird."

Frisk sighed a little. Chara rarely took full control of their body like this. "So what's wrong?" they asked softly, their words only audible to Chara themself.

Chara sighed as they ran Frisk's fingers along the scarf, tracing the knitwork, the emblem at its end. "... I knew it," they muttered. " _I_ made this. I know this feeling. I remember seeing it in my hands, only partway made." They were shaking now. "But... Toriel said there was magic in this. I... knew magic? Magic that was actually _useful_? Magic that's _still here_ after all the years I've been dead?"

Frisk giggled softly in Chara's mind. "Do you wanna stay a while?"

Chara blinked. "Uh... sure, if you don't mind. This... _is_ your body, you know."

"Let me try something..." Frisk went silent for a long moment.

Chara sighed a little, fingering the scarf nervously as they looked around. They started to loosen it; the pressure that Frisk enjoyed felt stifling to their companion. "Frisk? What are you trying to do, anyway...?"

The air in front of Chara suddenly wavered. They blinked, leaning closer to peer at it, and then almost jumped back as the image of a child appeared in front of them, sleepy-eyed and beaming across their olive face. "Wow..." They looked around, down at themself. "This is what it's like for you?"

Chara stared, open-mouthed. "How the f-"

Frisk hurriedly held up a finger. "Hey, no swearing with my mouth."

Chara closed their lips, and considered. "Right. I should... probably step out. What if Toriel hears us?"

Frisk shrugged. "I say your name lots."

Chara nodded. "Well..." They raised a finger. "Seeing the adorable face of your companion through their own eyes... it fills you with determination."

Frisk nodded as a feeling of being _solid_ enveloped them both, a powerful sensation of being anchored, bound to this one time. "Just in case?"

Chara nodded. "But, seriously. The projection thing."

Frisk shrugged. "I've been watching you do it."

Chara paused. "Well... I suppose that makes sense." They chuckled. "Oh well. I get to have a physical body and still get to look at how inhumanly adorable you are. I shall not complain of this."

Frisk leaned in close. "Your eyes are really pretty too, Chara. Even on my face."

Chara raised an eyebrow. "Okay, first of all, your face is lovely, so drop the 'even'. Second... what are you talking about? This is your body, Frisk."

Frisk tapped very gently on Chara's nose. "But my eyes aren't red."

Chara blinked at that, and then dove for Frisk's pile of presents. One of them had included a tiny mirror, and they stared at their own reflection in it. Sure enough, a pair of deep red eyes peered back at them out of what was unmistakably Frisk's face. "That is... not something I knew. My eyes show through when I'm in the driver's seat?"

Frisk smiled. "It's pretty, though."

Chara quietly settled the presents back and flopped onto the bed. "Well. Anyway, I should probably... hand back the controller, right?"

Frisk shrugged lightly. "Don't you miss having a body?"

Chara tucked their chin against their chest. "... a little. You want me to tell the story while I'm in control of your body, though?"

Frisk nodded, clasping their hands and beaming. "Sure!"

Chara nodded. "Well, let's see. As you might have guessed, I was fairly open with my presence around Sabail. I found him... refreshing, to be honest. I may have caught some of his enthusiasm for fairness and right, as well." They winked. "Yellow souls are, after all, associated strongly with justice."

Frisk nodded. "And he wanted to help."

Chara made a finger-gun at Frisk. "You know, that's a good way of putting it. He came here to say, flat out, 'humans have been awful to you and nothing about that is right. What can I do to make things better?' It's a good outlook for a terrible species to have." They paused. "That, and I appreciated him not shooting anyone that first day. So, the second night, I introduced myself just before Sabail started getting ready for bed." They coughed. "Made things interesting when Toriel mentioned me."

Chara stretched slightly. "Anyway, there was also the simple fact of what Sabail wanted to learn: monster history. I thought that working with him might give me a chance to spark a few of my decaying memories. I debated with him over just about anything - honestly, I was glad for the mental exercise - but the times we really got into it were those times when Toriel set Sabail an exercise she had drawn from actual events in the kingdom. I even remembered, if only vaguely, one or two that had been an issue when I was alive."

Frisk nodded, floating lightly back a little ways. "Did it help?"

Chara shrugged. "A little bit. I'd remember talking to Asgore about some of them, or the one I argued with Toriel over because I was convinced there was no possibility it could be the right way." They shook their head. "She was right, of course. Not like a kid would be able to see every aspect like she could. Toriel was... pretty amazing, back then."

Frisk pouted. "She's amazing now."

Chara chuckled. "Yeah, fair enough. But back then, well..." They shook their head. "Regardless, I could only grasp at fragments here and there. I did sometimes remember the outcome before Toriel explained it to Sabail. Sometimes that alone would spark a whole other round of debate."

Frisk nodded. "What was Sabail like?"

"Honestly?" Chara gave a fierce grin. "Different. Humans like to talk about justice as if it were some sort of absolute ideal that some cosmic jerk snoozing on a cloud wrote down somewhere. To Sabail, it was all about building from first principles. All should be safe from harm, therefore: 'Harm none, unless necessary to prevent harm to yourself or another.' 'Theft is wrong, but those who want not and deny another's need are deplorable.' 'Accept all as they truly are, but chastise those who will not.'" They paused. "Not that I agreed with everything he said, but he seemed content to let me be and not try and convince a dead child that they had to listen to what he said. Pretty cool for someone who was already almost an adult when I met him."

Frisk tapped their lip. "So was Sabail one of those social... things?"

Chara burst into laughter. "Hell no. Used properly instead of by people trying to justify being awful, that term is supposed to mean people who use breach of their arbitrary rules as an excuse to bully and harass and harm people. Those guys do real harm while pretending to support a good cause, and that's all they're out to do. Sabail was a genuine member of the movement. He had a tongue sharper than his arrows, but he had a talent for keeping a level head and explaining _why_ something was wrong to do." They paused. "He totally had one of those shirts though."

Frisk blinked, and Chara shrugged. "Anyway, Sabail was driven. His beliefs on what justice and being a good person meant were absolute, and he was as hard on himself as on anyone else when he tripped up. And so he came to Mount Ebott and rappelled right down into a hole in the ground. Dressed in his Sunday best with his hat and everything." They shook their head. "Sabail was always a pretty stylish person, even when he changed out of formal kit. He might have used that hat to help manage his panic, but it was a fashion statement as much as a tool." They paused, and a grin spread across their face. "He was also walking proof that you can totally bind and still be stylish, so... no worries there if and when that starts being an issue, Frisk."

Frisk squeaked. "You, um, you can tell?"

Chara shrugged. "I'm inhabiting your body right now, dummy. Everything you'd normally feel, I feel right now, and not filtered like it normally is either." They smiled. "I mean, does it really bother you that much that I know? Doesn't change what we both are. But, fair is fair; do you want to know?"

Frisk smiled weakly. "I think I can already guess."

Chara nodded. "Then, well, Toriel started to decline. It took her a while to get there, mind you, but Sabail picked up on it right away. But unlike Kythra, Sabail didn't have experience with depression, either personally or through his family and friends. So he floundered with no idea how he could help her, which set off about a dozen of his absolutes at once and tipped him over the edge too."

Frisk shifted. "Mom said Sabail got really scared sometimes."

"That's..." Chara shook their head. "I'm not sure it's possible to put it more mildly than you just did. Even filtered, those attacks were awful. Just being around him made me feel sick to my stomach. He couldn't even stand up straight while they were happening; the whole world tilted and every muscle _buzzed_ under his skin." They paused. "You know how in a nightmare - an actual one, not the ones me being here keeps giving you - sometimes you try to run away from some creature, but you just sort of sink or your legs just plain _won't move_ and you're stuck there and you have to watch it get closer and closer? Sabail's panic was a little like that. For an entire hour. And instead of a monster in a dream you are wide awake and what pursues you is an actual person who you have personally met and who despite being behind bars in another country is in the next room _right now_ and any moment he will slam open the door and toss your father's body on the ground and let how much of a worthless cowardly failure you are to the most important person in your life just sink in for a long minute before he points your own father's gun at you with those filthy greasy hands and grins at you with those rotten teeth corroded with tobacco and snarl, 'you're next, girlie'..."

Frisk held out their hand and let out a soft whimper. "Chara."

Chara blinked, and wrapped their hands around Frisk's. "It's just a thought," they whispered, even as they panted. "It's okay. Just... watch it go by. They're... they're here."

Frisk nodded firmly. "I'm here. I'm here."

Chara gave a long sigh. "... Thank you, Frisk. I... started to lose myself a little bit. When I was with Sabail, sometimes I was on the receiving end of memories crossing over." They closed their eyes, squeezing a little more tightly around the ghostly hand. "I'm sorry."

Frisk lowered their head. "You saw what happened to him?"

Chara winced. "I did." They paused, and peered at their hands. "... Is... this what it feels like when you hold my hand? No wonder you keep trying to coax me into it..."

Frisk smiled shyly. "It's not too bad on this side either."

Chara shook their head. "Thank you, though. Really. It... reminds me a little of him." They paused. "But once again with the roles reversed. When things started falling apart for him and for Toriel, Sabail turned to me. He told me, 'Toriel needs me to take care of her. I can't do that if I'm falling apart at the seams, so... please. Whatever you can think of, however you can manage, I need you to help me stay focused.' I... well, it was for Toriel. Of course I said yes. Not that I had a lot of ideas besides just... talking him through it." They paused, and flushed slightly. "And, well. There was this... show, when I was alive and on the surface. It kind of... spoke to me. I remembered one time that one of the characters was having problems. They were... panicking, because they felt guilty over the things they'd done, the people they'd hurt or failed to help. And one of the others, who was sort of like a mentor and leader to the team... she sang to them, and she helped them find their balance."

Chara scratched their cheek. "It's... dumb, I know. But when I saw Sabail driven into an attack over his guilt at Toriel's condition, I... sang that song for him. And... it genuinely helped. I was... startled, to be honest. The things I do are not usually things that are helpful. But Sabail thanked me, when he calmed down. I... sang a lot for him, after that." They paused. "Sometimes he sang too. That was... surprisingly nice. There's something about a good, warm tenor, especially with a soft brogue... even if he sometimes copied my trick of singing in my other language." They puffed. "Nobody but Kythra ever recognized mine, and they were from the same country as me so of course they would. Sabail... could get the gist, which is more than I can say for myself when he did it. We managed a duet in my language, once or twice."

Frisk smiled. "I like when you sing."

Chara flushed. "Anyway, Sabail started clawing his way back up. I figured out ways to help him stay calm long enough to excuse himself and go somewhere he could put his hat over his face and just breathe until his whole body stopped wanting to scream."

Frisk nodded. "Mom said he was the caretaker?"

"For a while." Chara sighed. "I had to step up then, as well. You charged Toriel before with worry about who takes on that role for her, but Toriel has someone to lean on. I quickly realized that as temporary caretaker, Sabail needed that support as well. So... I provided it."

Frisk nodded again, glumly. Chara went on. "He would talk about his worries, mostly. Toriel's condition, whether he was doing right by the monsters of the Ruins, his postponed mission to liason with Asgore..." They closed their eyes. "And the resumption of that mission in the near future."

"Why did Sabail leave Mom?" Frisk's eyes were downcast.

"It was his duty." Chara shook their head. "Sounds like the punchline to a joke, but no, that's how Sabail saw the world. He wanted to take care of Toriel. But Sabail believed that a genuine recovery could only come from dealing with the root cause of her depression: her separation, her fear of Asgore's homicides, and the guilt she felt about everything that had happened. For Toriel to be truly safe from falling down, the Underground had to be reunited." They snorted. "Of course, Toriel herself didn't seem too keen on that."

Frisk shook their head. "Did Mom... really fight Sabail?"

"Like she does with you?" Chara nodded. "Little different facing a man old enough to drink, mind you. Especially when he has a bow he can fight back with. Or demonstrate your 'mercy' trick in his own absurdly stylish way." They shook their head. "Speaking of, goodness, that bow. I am convinced he chose those adornments deliberately; the floriography is far too spot-on. And I _taught_ him floriography, so I should know."

Frisk blinked. "Flower what?"

Chara grinned brightly. "If I can claim one thing I know deeply, it would be flowers. One utterly cretinous mishap notwithstanding. Romantics have attached meanings to flowers for ages, Frisk. Crocus for glad tidings, daisies for innocent and pure beauty, edelweiss for nobility..." Their smile hitched slightly tighter. "The childish buttercup, for riches. The Victorians collated their meanings into volumes of floral lore they called floriography; this is how people send messages through the flowers they give and wear. Sabail asked me to teach him about my interests, once; I think he believed it would help my memories."

Frisk scratched their head. "So what kind is Flowey?"

Chara coughed. "Flowey? No idea why you would want to bring him up, but... he is a golden flower. That is... the only name I knew that variety by, and if there is any meaning attached to those I do not remember."

Frisk circled their chest gently. "I was just curious..." They paused. "Didn't Sabail's flowers change?"

Chara nodded. "A branch of forsythia. Appropriate, for what was coming. As for Flowey, he is probably lurking somewhere, watching us. Probably bored out of his mind wondering why we remain here still."

"Not much longer." Frisk sighed. "So what happened when Sabail left?"

Chara shook their head. "He waited until he was sure Toriel would be able to continue alone, mind you. He was impatient, and his anxiety only worsened as he went on supporting her, but Sabail would never even consider leaving her to sink or swim." They winced. "But, then we were outside in the cold of Snowdin, safety behind and all Asgore's forces before. And Sabail, well... he fought like a paladin would. Never without a challenge, never without a demand his enemy give quarter, never without ample opportunity to withdraw and lick their wounds." They sighed. "Never without striking should the enemy refuse to yield."

"Him too?" Frisk curled up in the air.

Chara sighed again. "At first, everything was fine. His bow let him bring most monsters to their knees or even outright incapacitate them without actually dealing mortal harm. Later, when they could handle more arrows, he would draw his weapon and openly warn them of its destructive potential. 'This is a human weapon called a gun,' he would say. 'It sends out objects called bullets with such force that even a human can die from a single blow, and the bullet will reach its target moments after they hear its sound. If I fire, you will be dust.' That... usually got their attention. Only against one of Undyne's lieutenants, far into Waterfall, was Sabail at last forced to pass his gun to his other hand."

Frisk peeked up over their knees. "Other hand?"

Chara nodded. "Sabail wore his holster as if he was right-handed, under his left shoulder, so Sabail had to switch hands after he drew his gun. He would not even undo the safety until he had." They paused. "The moment he did was when certain things sank in. I knew Sabail's family was well connected with the law and law enforcement. He'd been trained in how to handle and use a firearm. I also knew from his memories that Sabail had used it before. When he raised that gun against a monster, though... well. No hesitation. 'Never aim a gun at someone you are not prepared to kill.'"

Frisk nodded glumly. "What... did you do?"

Chara opened their eyes. "I was... furious. After all that talk... and with him sadly calling the incident a failure _of diplomacy_ on his part... I could not stand it. I started blocking him from saving, without him even realizing it. My determination, somehow, could override his. Whenever we rested, I would challenge him. Our debates became fierce and angry. More monsters died to his bullets. Sabail refused to relent, to retreat, to go back to our save. In his eyes, he claimed, under his principles, it was fine. 'Do no harm, _save to prevent harm from yourself or another_.' I pushed all the harder."

Frisk shifted. "... why?"

"Because he betrayed me." Chara trembled. "He made me think he was decent. That he was someone who wanted to never kill anyone. I drove at him with everything I had, trying to force him to accept his pathetic hypocrisy. To go back. I was at turns furious and desperate; either he was a traitor who was nothing like I believed him to be, or he was going against everything he believed." They shivered. "Instead, I debated him into an attack. And left him to it."

Frisk held out their hand again, and Chara looked away. "After that attack, things came to a head. Sabail tried to press on despite being still shaken. We were most of the way through Hotland at that point, but then..."

Chara closed their eyes. "We saw two lovers standing before the edge of the cauldron of Hell. Still shaken, Sabail drew his weapon, but the two armored forms pressed in. I wondered, did they intend to commit a double suicide? That would mean their love would end in Hell." Their eyes were wide, and they began to chuckle softly. "I could not stop laughing."

Frisk stared. Chara's mouth hung open now, spreading into a thin crescent across their face. Their lips tucked in neatly, hiding their teeth; their smile was a gash, a tear in place of a mouth. "Chara," they whispered, reaching out both arms desperately.

Chara hung their head. "I mean that. I am certain that contributed to Sabail's actions as well." They shivered, and clasped Frisk's hands tightly. "He fared poorly. Badly injured, he took aim. His hand wavered, and he gave one final... not warning, more like plea. In the midst of the next attack, a pair of roars split the air, and a cheerful young royal guard turned to dust. His silent companion struck the ground with his sword, and a torrent of magic left Sabail bleeding. Two more reports signaled his end as well." They shivered. "I am certainly no fortune teller, and yet their fates..."

Frisk whimpered. "Chara..." they whispered again.

"And then..." Chara's voice cracked. "Then Sabail sat down and suddenly I could feel, faintly, a circle of scorching steel. 'Hey, Chara?' I heard. 'What do you think? One shot left... one more body in the pile? Not like anyone would miss this failure of a diplomat.' I... tried my best to be neutral. 'If you do that, I do not believe I will have the determination to drag you back this time.' He just laughed. I seized his arm before he could do anything foolish. 'Rejoice,' I told him. 'For I shall magnanimously undo your myriad failures.' Before he could comprehend my meaning, I drew us back."

Chara shook their head again. "Sabail was... less than pleased. Then again, better angry at me than contemplating joining the lovers. Then, when Good Knight swooped in, I made my point by action rather than debate. I forced Sabail out of his body and took to my heels." They paused. "I am no star athlete, but in two fields I have extensive experience. Climbing, and evasive running. Escaping a slow, armored monster like that was... _child's_ play." They snickered lightly.

Frisk blinked. "You... ran away?"

"Strange how that possibility never seems to occur to people." Chara shook their head. Sabail was livid when he finally forced me out. There in Waterfall, we had our penultimate debate. There, we each tore the heart of the other's reason out from their deepest shadow. From me, my bitterness, my conviction that Sabail had betrayed his principles, betrayed any concept of justice worth _anything_ , turned to hypocrisy to justify murder. From Sabail..." They lowered their head again. "'I won't be a coward at someone's expense! I won't hesitate ever again! If I'd just fired back then, if I'd just killed him, my father would never have been hurt!'"

"What happened to Sabail's father?" Frisk drifted closer, staring into Chara's eyes.

Chara sighed. "Sabail's father was a detective. A certain criminal who Sabail never named took offense to his investigation of an associate. He broke into Sabail's home and attacked him. When Sabail's father tried to protect his son, he was shot and hospitalized for months." They lifted their head to meet Frisk's eyes. "Sabail blamed himself. He had a clean shot when the man first broke in. The law would have sided with him, explicitly, had he shot the intruder dead. But he hesitated long enough to be assaulted and disarmed. That, Sabail insisted, gave him the opportunity to shoot his father."

"And that's why..." Frisk shivered.

Chara nodded. "Anxiety was a part of Sabail's life before that, of course. But that was the day the attacks became a regular occurrence. Mind, Sabail personally put a bullet in his thigh and captured him. But only after his father had a kidney shot out. His father praised his restraint, his valuing life, but to Sabail, this was only a new principle. 'If someone is an active threat not only to you but to others they may meet, it is your right and duty to end that threat.'" They shook their head. "He told me, 'What if I do leave them alive? What about the next human that comes down here? We already know I'm going to fail, at least let me help thin out the people who will try and murder the next child!'"

Frisk sighed. "But..."

Chara lowered their head. "He refused to bend his principles. I... lost my temper. I am unabashedly ashamed of what I said."

They drew in a deep breath. No sound came out, and Frisk smiled hesitantly. "Chara, don't ever feel like you can't stop."

"I said..." Chara squeezed their eyes shut. "'I should have just let you blow your brains out.'"

Frisk's face crumpled, and they squeezed at Chara's hands. Chara refused to open their eyes. "I told you I am the worst of our despicable race."

Frisk shook their head slowly. "Then why didn't you want to tell me?"

Chara shivered. "I... Sabail apologized, a while later. He had decided to take the other route through Waterfall, but there were monsters up there as well. Some he could convince to stand down. Others... He asked for the use of my feet again. 'We'll try it your way,' he told me. 'But you have to promise that you'll help the next human just like this if they need it. After all, any monster I don't shoot is a monster the last human will have to deal with.'"

Chara managed a weak smile. "I countered that I wouldn't have to do anything so long as he did his damn job. I said I'd promise to show the next child around the reconciled Underground though, without complaint. He... well. I don't think he believed he could manage it anymore. Every monster he had shot was a monster he failed to reach, after all. He had tried speaking with people in various places, including Gerson, but nobody would arrange to send for Asgore to speak with on neutral ground. Still, it was Sabail's chosen duty to try. Hope did not enter into Sabail's calculations."

Frisk sighed. "So what happened? Did he meet Asgore?"

Chara shook their head. "Sabail never even saw Asgore. As we neared the end, high above the catwalks above Waterfall, we met her once again. Undyne, bristling with magic and grimmer that day than I had ever seen her. When I told him who we were facing, Sabail lit up. He called out to her, identified himself as a would-be ambassador between the two sundered regions of the Underground. He petitioned Undyne to bring him before the king, and vowed if she agreed, he would consent to disarm."

They shrugged. "Undyne pointed out what happened the last time she brought a human before the king. 'And you know as well as I that people like us are never unarmed.' And to drive home the _thrust_ of her argument, Undyne drew her own personal weapon."

Frisk nodded. "Her spear?"

Chara nodded. "A bright cyan shaft of light in the shape of a simple spear. Light, effective, incredible in its capacity to pierce. Which reminds me." They narrowed their eyes. "Maybe avoid letting on to Toriel that you know what Asgore's weapon looks like, eh?"

"You said it was red before." Frisk looked pensive.

Chara sighed. "It is now. Magic weapons are personal, attuned to the soul of the human or monster who creates them. If they change, so does their weapon. Asgore's trident as you will behold it is a tool of murder. Sharp and angular, its prongs all face inward towards their target. But, because Asgore Dreemurr is the most sentimental person on the planet, he has allowed one single adornment. A five-petaled flower, burnished in gold, sits at the point where his trident splits."

Frisk nodded. "Is that the only way you've seen it?"

"No." Chara shook their head. "I have seen it as Toriel described it to you. A weapon born to be beautiful, to blaze with fire in the color of bravery in the hands of the rightful king of monsters." They paused, and gave Frisk's hands a squeeze. "Would you... like to see? You might be able to pry more of the memory out of me..."

They had closed their eyes, and Frisk closed their own. Impressions flickered across the shared part of their minds: warm sun tinted by a strange window, the scent of flowers, a warmth cupped delicately between their palms. Frisk paused, hesitant, but Chara gave their hands a squeeze again and they focused.

_"I do hope it is not too hot."_

_The voice was warm and gentle, as always. They raised their eyes from the old chipped cup to meet his, far above. "Enough that I need to blow on it at first, but nowhere near enough to harm me. You worry far too often, Dad Guy."_

_He laughed, a rich, booming chuckle. He had foregone his royal robes - any remaining business of the kingdom had been left to her - and instead he wore a gardener's apron over the garish pink of his favorite sweater. Earth still clung to his white fur, and they could see seeds and burrs stuck all over his long mane. "A king is supposed to worry, Chara. And besides, I have my wife to help worry about things too."_

_They sipped quietly at their tea and glanced beside them. Not even a stone's throw away stood an opalescent veil, as ironclad in truth as it was diaphanous in appearance. "Things like that edifice?"_

_Asgore shook his head gently. "Leave such things to when you support..." The name winked out of hearing. "He will need you, when he takes the throne, just as I need my wife." He chuckled. "You continue to resemble her more and more, you know."_

_They turned to it again. "Do you think that if I train with her, I can surmount this... obstacle, someday? He has mentioned that a strong enough soul could travel through."_

_Asgore paused. "It is not a question of raw power, Chara. That is not what we mean by 'a strong soul' when we talk about the Barrier." He got to his feet, stretching for a moment. "Please move back enough that you stay safe."_

_After a moment, he raised his hands. Living flame whirled and danced in his hands, and under his command quickly shaped itself. The weapon shone brightly as Asgore took hold, the lines of its structure flowing like the contours of a great river. As he stood forward, tongues of fire began to flicker in the air around him. With a roar, he pivoted on his feet and swung the trident in a mesmerizing pattern that left trails of shimmering light in its wake. As he moved, the flames rose to incandescence and began to twirl along with him, gathering into wide sines and helices._

_With a final shout, Asgore swung hard several times, each flashing a bright orange or cyan, and at the last thrust his weapon straight with a flash of red. The torrent of magic obeyed his command and impacted on the Barrier in a dozen flashes of blinding fire... and vanished. Each slash and thrust made the veil tremble and ring like a great bell... but nothing more._

_With a tired sigh, Asgore settled down in the grass beside them again, trident resting gently across his knees. "I do not mean this as bragging, but I possess the strongest combat magic of any monster. And yet, here I stand, my power impotent to bring any change to the plight of my people." He regarded them with weary eyes. "You need not subject yourself to such training, Chara, if it is for that reason. Human or monster, alone none can pass through or injure the Barrier."_

_"Alone." They paused with their cup still at their lips. "You mean to say that only one who possesses an alloyed soul can pass beyond the veil."_

_"As poetic as ever." Asgore chuckled softly. "But yes. Only with the power of a human and a monster soul united could anyone ever consider passing the Barrier."_

_"I see." They sighed. "Then I must ask why you hesitate. Do you think I would not gladly give it? I would like to think even I am not that ungrateful. It does not have to be him, although that would admittedly be my preference."_

_"Chara..." Asgore's voice was a quiet tremor now. "I will not ever countenance a plan that involves you having to give up your soul. I love you very much, and I would miss you terribly."_

_He gently extended one of his paws, and they gratefully let their hands sink into the huge, soft pads, not caring about the soft dirt the garden had left on them. "Yet even King Fluffybuns is not so much of a generous, silly old man that he would give his soul to a human child," they said, their voice lighter._

_Asgore shook his head. "I would never place such a burden on a child." He sighed. "Chara, what we want is for you to be happy. For everyone to be happy. Truth be told, I am not especially concerned with the Barrier. The only humans I expect to come here are those who come for the same reasons you did. I do not want to sacrifice a life simply to allow someone else to risk their own trying to broker ties with a species who do not trust us." He paused. "Especially when that person would be the surest proof and reminder of that which they feared. That which drove them to war upon us."_

_Their fingers pressed deeply into his paw. "Is there truly nothing I can do?" It was despicable. Unconscionable. Humans did not deserve the spoils they had won over the dust of the innocent._

_He shook his head gently, his mane ruffling in the wind that came past the Barrier. "I ask only for you to be happy, Chara. I want for you to stay here, with your family, and live. To be the hope we need, there will never be anything more important than for you to do that."_

_Hope. There it was again. Hope, and contentment. But they knew better than to start on this argument again, and so they simply gave him their best, most metered smile, and nodded. "Yes, sir."_

Frisk gasped softly as the memory slipped from their grip. Chara's eyes were wide as they stared back. "I... was not expecting you to see all of that." They bit their lip. "But, now you know, Frisk. You will go nowhere without taking one of their souls. You either lose yours, or claim his."

Frisk shrugged idly. "If I want to leave."

Chara paused. "I... suppose you are right." They sighed. "In any case, Undyne had drawn her spear." They paused. "Then, from far off still, she swung it. 'Listen up, human, because I'm not making the same mistake twice! Like it or not, you're facing me head-on!' It was... a strange feeling. Sabail's soul took on a strange green glow, and when he let me try and take to our heels... they wouldn't move. Somehow, Undyne had learned the exact magic that would undo our ace in the hole."

Frisk stared. "You couldn't run?"

Chara nodded. "Undyne had, incredibly, learned magic that could affect a human soul. She was able to remove my ability to flee the battle. When we realized this, Sabail... drew his gun. He went into the entire spiel I'd heard him go through so many times before. Undyne, of course, stood firm. A simple firearm would never cow the heroine of the Underground, the proud Captain of the Royal Guard. Undyne _never_ gives up." They smiled brightly. "Then he said, 'Now, personally, I don't find any of that fair-sounding. So let's remove that temptation.' And right then and there he flipped open the cartridge and emptied every bullet out of his revolver. 'Gun's useless without a bullet to fire. Other than a hunk of metal to slug someone with.' He put it away and drew out his bow. Undyne was... well, I think she was already taking a liking to Sabail, because the next thing she did was throw down a spear at his feet."

Frisk blinked. "That doesn't sound friendly."

Chara rolled their eyes. "Not as an attack. She _gave_ him a spear. 'Use it or not, your call. But I won't have anyone saying I didn't give you a fair fight, human!' And, well... the combat began properly from there. Not without both sides loudly proclaiming the rightness of their duty, mind you." They chuckled. "Sabail would protest that he just wanted the Underground reunited, but Undyne would fire back that there was no way the Ruins would open up as long as Asgore kept his course. Sabail's retorted that he wanted to accomplish that very thing. And Undyne..." Chara sighed. "Undyne started talking about all the monsters on _her_ side who had fallen down. Her own father included. 'You'd have us just sit down here until we give up and die? Where's the _justice_ in that, human?!' she howled."

Frisk nodded. "We really have to figure something out..." They sighed. "They need hope."

"They had hope, once." Chara snorted. "Maybe it'll be that simple again? But Asgore would probably fear it would be lost the same way as the first time. Sabail was... unmoved, though. 'Where's the justice in a hope born from killing innocent humans?' he fired back. 'And if that's a real hope that can keep your people going, why are there still monsters on both sides falling down? You're just lying to yourselves to pretend you have hope, and to keep that lie going, you'll murder _children_!'" They sighed. "Undyne's reply was... expected. 'Why not? What's so great about humans anyway that I should value their lives more than ours? The first human I killed was a kid, but that didn't stop him from killing monsters! Monsters I knew and cared about! I'm the Captain of the Royal Guard, and it's my duty to kill any human who comes down here!'"

Chara shook their head again. "But I could see it. Undyne was unsure. _This_ human, thanks to my interference, had never killed anyone. And she knew damned well that Kythra had lived for almost a decade in Waterfall without ever killing a single monster. Sabail could see it too, and he pressed his attack, harder and harder. He wielded the spear Undyne lent him as if she had personally trained him in its use, and he switched so fluidly between it and his bow that Undyne had no idea what range to expect his next strike from."

Chara paused, and a slim smile stretched their face. "I almost did not see the moment, when it came. Sabail pressed his attack to close range, and both spears went flying. Undyne barged him back with her shoulder, but as Sabail fell, he drew his bow and fired. Undyne went toppling over with a scream and a silver shaft protruding from her eye."

Frisk's eyes widened. "Wait... but you asked Blooky about Undyne..."

Chara shrugged. "Well, yeah. Magical weapon wielded without intent to kill. It wasn't as if Sabail was aiming for the eye. Undyne survived the blow, vulnerable area or not. Sabail told her to stay down and started walking off - the magic on his soul had worn off by then - but..."

"Undyne _never_ gives up." Frisk sounded despondent.

Chara nodded. "And that was Sabail's downfall. He had made Undyne's mask slip, only to discover that she was even more determined underneath." They paused. "I know monsters are not supposed to be capable of it, but... I think Undyne actually has determination. _Our_ kind. Sabail's arrows were powerful magic, and she took a blow straight to her eye. But as Sabail moved to leave, a spear flew over his head and clean through his hat. It fell into the deeper parts of Waterfall below as he turned. Undyne fixed Sabail with her good eye, and then she sighed. 'The worst of it is, a little earlier and you might have met him. We almost had a chance. Our Royal Scientist was working with the souls we already have. Apparently she'd even known two of the humans personally and studied their souls at length. She... Asgore believed in her. He let himself hope that there was maybe, just maybe, a way out of this. A way to get out without having to kill anyone else.' She paused. 'Don't tell Asgore this. But that hope is gone now.'"

Frisk shivered. "What happened to Alphys?"

"That's what Sabail asked." Chara winced. "Undyne told us about meeting her in the deepest parts of Waterfall, where the water rushes down into a chasm no monster has ever explored. She hadn't known her name at first, or who she was. But Undyne knew she was thinking about exploring that hole personally."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Relatable?"

Chara gave their hands a squeeze. "She talked her down, mind. But when Undyne realized that this was Alphys, the Royal Scientist, and listened to the things she said... she knew Alphys had failed. Worse, she had made some kind of horrible mistake that destroyed what little faith she had in herself. 'And there you have it,' she finished. 'Alphys gave it her best, but it just wasn't meant to be. The only way out of here is your soul, human. Yours and whoever falls down next. But honestly... that isn't why I'm doing this.' That's... about where she pulled the arrow out of her eye and took up her spear. 'I'm doing this because if I don't... Asgore will.'"

Frisk tensed. "Because he 'has to'."

Chara closed their eyes. "Undyne told us a little about Asgore as she saw him. He personally trained her, and took her in after her father fell down. Most monsters didn't want her around when she was young, but Asgore did not simply tolerate her, he encouraged her presence. I... suppose in his own way, Asgore also missed being a father."

"I hereby appoint you Captain of the Royal Guard. I am so very proud of you, my child." Frisk's voice was suddenly as deep as they could manage, an almost squeaky baritone.

Chara stared for a long moment before breaking into a high, bright giggle. "Frisk, no, stop, I'm going to herniate from laughing. How is that supposed to be him?" They laid back, gasping and beaming as Frisk floated up above them. "She loved him, Frisk. With all her heart. And she understood him better than anyone else, except maybe one person. So... she was the only one able to tell Sabail what she did."

"'Asgore doesn't want to kill anyone. But it's his duty to as king. This war... this fake "hope"... It doesn't matter if I believe in it. If it's a choice between fake hope and no hope at all, Asgore will choose war.' She shook her head. 'It's killing him. I call it a miracle every day that I wake up and he's still alive. I already screwed up with the last kid, and he had to kill them with his own hands. Do you have any idea what killing three children personally, and watching me kill a fourth right in front of him, is doing to Asgore?'" Chara shivered. "'So, that's where things stand. I don't want to kill you, honestly. But I lead the Royal Guard, human, and that means I'm in charge of protecting our King. That doesn't just mean from bullets. Understand?'"

Frisk bit their lip. "The Royal Guard protects the heart of the king, too."

Chara gave a weak laugh. "And Sabail... well. 'Toriel's suffering too, you know. What about your duty to her?' He was... poised. Driven. 'She almost fell down before. I managed to help her this time, but what about the next? I have to try, even if reaching Asgore is impossible. The Underground has to become one again. I won't let this war kill her. I have someone I love too, Captain, and I'll protect her with just as much fervor as you. I only pray Asgore survives word of your passing.' Undyne seemed... satisfied. 'She trained you, didn't she? But I won't back down for her either. She's stronger than you're giving her credit for. Besides, if I have to for Asgore's sake, then I'll kill you with my own hands.'"

Frisk nodded. "There... wasn't any other way, was there?"

"Sabail's last failure as a diplomat." Chara nodded wearily. "Undyne and Sabail challenged each other. It was a battle to the death now, and they both accepted that. Indeed, Undyne loudly declared it before demanding Sabail's name. 'I am Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard, and I challenge you!' 'And I, Sabail, assistant caretaker of the Ruins, acknowledge and accept you!' And then, they clashed, bow against spear. But things were different now. Undyne had grown to incredible power. Her armor changed. It grew thicker, bolder, more angular. A beautiful red heart emerged on the chestplate, and dust and light streamed from her injured eye. Lesser strikes glanced off of her armor. Sabail drew his bow to its utmost, and Undyne's spear snapped his arrow in half. Sabail gave ground again, and again, until he drew to a dead end high above Waterfall."

Chara closed their eyes. "And then, Undyne broke Sabail's bow to bits and pierced his heart with a single thrust. He did not suffer, at least. I was... aware enough to confirm that."

Frisk closed their eyes as well. "How many times did it take?"

Chara winced. "About that." They sighed. "That... was the occasion of my final debate with Sabail. A debate I lost, handily. Sabail did not continue, or try again, or reset, Frisk. His first death was his last. That, too, was his justice. Faced with monsters, beings of magic who could not wield the determination that humans do... he decided that he would be bound by the same rules. A rule he never told me until he was already dead."

Frisk stared. "Justice?" They paused. "And you tried to convince him?"

Chara squeezed Frisk's hands softly. "I... had never even guessed that he held himself to a rule like that. I suddenly found myself remembering every time he had fired. Every time... Sabail was wounded, on the verge of death himself. He had... truly only used his gun as his last resort. To stop someone who would otherwise claim his life. And I... I..." They shivered. "Everything I had thought about Sabail was turned on its head. He had never once betrayed his principles, or me. And all along, I had treated him like the worst kind of traitor and murderer. I... did not want to end our time together in that way."

Frisk drew close. "Sabail wouldn't listen, would he?"

Chara shook their head with a sigh. "No. And when I tried to protest that the worst of what I had said, I did not mean..." They smiled bitterly. "Sabail scowled at me. 'Let's spend our short remaining time together honestly. You might regret it now, but when you said those words, you meant them.' And... then he smiled. 'But you do regret it. Your words hurt me deeply. You helped me a lot, but then... well. Even so, I can set that aside. After all, like father, like child, right?'" Chara paused. "I suppose it did fit. Letting anger show who I really am, lashing out and hurting anyone around me, even those who trusted me... yeah, that sounds like my father, all right."

They weren't smiling anymore. Frisk leaned in close, never once letting go of Chara's hands. "What else did you two say?"

Chara grit their teeth for a moment. "I... finally brought myself to actually apologize. I had misjudged Sabail, badly, and I admitted it. He, for his part... thanked me for making him go back. 'The day my father almost died, I realized I wasn't cut out for police work. That's when I decided to be a diplomat instead. I always thought it was because I didn't have the guts to pull the trigger, but... maybe I just never thought that pulling the trigger was right.' He... asked me what I thought, and I told him he probably shouldn't put stock in the opinion of someone like me." They sighed. "He seemed to accept that."

Chara reached up to gently touch Frisk's cheek. "And then... well. Even Sabail's determination could only keep me at a dead man's side for a limited time. Sabail reached out. 'It's a bit early for either of us to say "I forgive you", I think. But what say we set that aside, just for this moment?' I reached out in turn. 'I agree, Sabail. Shall we part on amicable terms?' And he, well. 'Chara, if you want to say you don't want to part as enemies, just say it. You're worse than Toriel, honestly. But I'll part as friends, willingly. You think on what's important to you, got it? And about that promise?'" Chara lowered their head. "'The one who'll come after me. Like as not, they'll be a child, like you. Keep an eye on them, would you? Listening to you meant I left a lot more monsters around who'll be willing to kill them, but... I still think your way was right. So thank you, again. I wish you enough, Chara.'"

They took a deep breath. "And... that was it. Sabail and I parted ways, and Undyne returned to Asgore with the last soul he needed." They pointed to Frisk's chest. "Save only for one."

Frisk nodded quietly. "When you asked Blooky about Undyne's eye..."

"She never healed it." Chara sighed. "I suppose that was her own way of matching Sabail's 'justice'." They shook their head. "In any case, my tale is done. I suppose it's past time I handed back control of your body to the rightful owner."

Frisk shrugged. "Want to stay until morning?" They paused. "Only..."

Chara blinked. "What's wrong, Frisk?"

Frisk pouted. "I wanted to try my new nightgown. But that's like a dress..."

Chara sighed. "Yeah. That... does present a problem." They paused. "When I... came out to them, about my gender, they gave me a hell of a time. Wouldn't listen to anything about me being neither, they just... stuffed my closet full of skirts and dresses. When I objected, they told me it was the fastest way to make me just figure out if I was a boy or a girl." They paused. "We can give it a try, though. It might be different, as a present. And if not, I'll just back out and let you sleep."

Frisk nodded, and took a breath as Chara let go of their control finally. They wiggled quickly out of bed and began to change, with Chara looking conspicuously the other way and singing to themself. Whatever it was sounded catchy, though Frisk wondered what someone being made of love would look like. ("They'd look like you, you dork," Chara said fondly, when they were done.)

It took Frisk a moment to find their new long nightclothes under all their other presents. As they slipped into it, they sighed. "I can wear it another night, Chara. This is your birthday."

Chara shrugged, and turned back. "As far as I'm concerned, it's our birthday, Frisk." They smiled wearily. "On the bright side, look. We match." They indicated the yellow band on their sweater.

Frisk fingered the wide pink stripe across their own garment, and twirled with a beaming smile on their face. Chara laughed. "Frisk, no, you'll create a singularity of fluffiness and end all existence!"

Frisk twirled to a stop, fingering the tiny Delta Rune that nestled just below the neckline. "I feel kind of weird wearing this."

Chara leaned in close to look. "That symbol means you're part of Toriel's family. I cannot think of anyone more qualified to wear the Delta Rune than you, Frisk." They sighed gently.

Frisk nodded. With a quick motion, they tugged off their old boots, wriggling their toes with a pout and a relieved sigh, and settled them into the box among the other shoes. When they hopped into bed, they immediately beckoned to Chara and waited.

Chara settled in with a sigh. "Well... yeah. A little iffy." They shrugged. "But I think I can manage it. This feels kind of nice, actually, I'm just... remembering things."

Frisk appeared beside the bed, fidgeting and dressed in the same nightgown. "I don't want to pressure you."

Chara shook their head, and smiled tightly. "I'm the one pressuring myself. I don't like turning down an honest gift."

Frisk nodded. "Do you... think you'll be able to sleep?"

Chara's eyes widened. "I... had not considered that." They reached out to draw down the covers. "Well, we shall find out soon enough."

Frisk clambered hesitantly in beside Chara, reaching out to take their hands. "Sleep well." They beamed. "Happy birthday, Chara."

Chara smiled, and closed their eyes. "Happy birthday, Frisk."

When they opened them again, it was morning, and Frisk was smiling sleepily back at them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Sabail makes six. We're not done quite yet, mind you, but...  
> Sabail's name is drawn from a Gaelic translation of _Philosophae Naturalis Principia Mathematica_ , or _On the Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy_. This three-volume text was Issac Newton's seminal work on the _laws_ of physics; considering physics deals with the laws of physical reality I thought it the perfect counterpart to ethics' governance of the laws of behavior and thus the best field to draw the yellow soul's name from. Between the use of Gaelic and the fact that the yellow soul's healing item during Omega Flowey is a clover, it was pretty much inevitable that Sabail would wind up Irish-American... mostly. I left enough hints that I think someone could figure it out, but to be more concrete, Sabail has a small amount of Ojibwe heritage. This tribe, native to the Great Lakes region and large swathes of Canada, appear to be the first to make dreamcatchers. They also worked in birch and copper, hence the grip of Sabail's magic bow and the ornaments on the catcher he makes for Toriel. The Ojibwe also believed that dreamcatchers were meant for children, as adults are mature enough to handle and learn from even nightmares; this is why Sabail comments that his fellow Ojibwe would chastise him for using one for Toriel. (Sabail reasons however that in her state Toriel _can't_ gain anything from her dreams and needs the extra support due to her depression.)  
>  On the subject: Sabail mentions some "old grouches"; he's referring to a small number of elder Ojibwe he approached about learning their culture from and was turned away. This isn't supposed to be representative of the tribe or imply that they are isolationist; they're just some grouchy older tribe members who judged Sabail to be a Caucasian teenager hoping to appropriate more of their culture, and Sabail was discouraged enough by the rejection that he didn't keep trying. What he knows of Ojibwe culture, religion, and language is self-taught from whatever he could scrounge from various second-hand sources.  
> Sabail is another one who changed a lot in the writing. My original notes had him as someone willing to pull the trigger if he needed to, but respectful towards his opponents (the notes mention him gathering the dust so the other monsters could give those he killed proper burial). This left Chara somewhat neutral towards him with little interaction. Then again the notes also had him more or less neutotypical, so. Things Have Changed, clearly. Quite where the idea to invoke panic disorder came from is honestly something I can't remember any longer, but it and the triggering PTSD have become an integral part of who Sabail developed into. Now, Sabail pulls the trigger not only in defense of his life but out of what he feels is an obligation to anyone else who might be harmed by his inaction. You can't afford mercy if it means harm to another. I feel he shines through all the more for it, and I'm more than happy to have made the change. (Of course, all these changes also meant I spent two weeks prepping these chapters for posting...)  
> Most of Sabail's course through the Underground is as I originally envisioned it: he spent years with Toriel, longer than anyone else except Kythra, learning enough from Toriel to probably qualify for a pol sci Master's in the process, and then proceeded through the Underground seeking to gain an audience with Asgore until being confronted with Undyne, who by now has reached the end of the character arc I set out for her. (Truth be told I am also working on a piece with her and Asgore that among other things would show the other side of this arc, so the outline of that piece has been in the back of my mind whenever she shows up.) The issue soon became, however, that Chara would absolutely _not_ be neutral about Sabail just because he used his weapon sparingly and showed respect to those he killed. After all, in Chara's eyes, for humans in the Underground (thanks to their determination) _dying is literally a momentary inconvenience_. Why should a monster have to die, and stay dead, just to save a human from a little pain and having to poke *Continue?  
>  And so the Cauldron of Hell scene came into being. If you've played the game, yes, these two are exactly who you think they are. Also I will never pass up a chance to let Chara make a Kitchen reference, ever. (Incidentally, while in the game the text is "do they wish for death?", at least in the edition I have the line makes the open reference to "contemplating a double suicide" that I've preserved here.)  
> Other references: the song and a few other lines are "subtle" Steven Universe nods, and the shirt Chara mentions that Sabail "totally has" is one of the Social Justice variant class line (Sabail's is the Social Justice Paladin, for obvious reasons.)


	13. Determination, Side A ~ The First Story Spun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings are as follows: abuse, misgendering, reference to deadnaming, abandonment, depiction of physical "illness", flashbacks, dissociation, referenced suicide and depiction of attempted suicide. There is also a depiction of a relationship that is borderline if not outright codependent and possessive.  
>  
> 
> *... on some level, I am certain you all knew this was what awaited.  
> *You know who I am, and what I have done, and what has been done to me.  
> *I suggest you brace yourself accordingly.

Things continued quietly in Frisk and Toriel's home after that. The winter nights were warm, and often full of the scent of baked goods (and occasionally decidedly burnt goods). Some time after Sabail's story was told, Frisk was gathering ingredients for a coconut cream pie. Chara had tried to suggest through Frisk that it be chocolate, but Toriel had gently vetoed them on the grounds of sugar content. Toriel herself was watching carefully, making sure Frisk's measuring was even and steady.

Toriel paused as her phone started to ring softly. "Goodness. Who might that be..." Frisk turned back to the recipe book as Toriel slipped into the next room, humming softly to themself. After a moment, Toriel appeared in the doorway, looking flustered. "I had completely forgotten, but I had promised to meet a dear friend." She leaned on the door for a moment. "I may be some time. Please wait until I have returned before attempting anything just yet."

Frisk nodded, and pulled down the last of the ingredients. They passed into the hallway to their room just in time to see Toriel vanishing down the stairs.

For a long moment, they hesitated at the head of the stairs, trembling. Then, slowly, they moved down, following far behind.

They heard her long before they rounded the bend. The soft sound of claws rapping against stone echoed easily to them. "I am very sorry for being so late," she said. "I have been teaching my child to bake, and it completely slipped my mind that we had set aside this time to meet." Frisk could faintly hear the sound of a very different knock on stone, and Toriel sang out happily, "Who is there?" Another pause, and then, "Snow who?" There was already a warm lilt to her voice, and almost too quickly for there to have been a reply she broke into warm laughter.

After a moment: "It is funny that you mention snow, however. I had to seek out my child a little while back, and I found them fast asleep under the first snowfall the mountain has seen this year." She sighed. "I do wish, sometimes, that I could show you. The flowers look so beautiful in the snow. But, after all, you have your duties and those you must look after, just as I do."

Her voice was more firm when she spoke next. "I have told you you need not sell yourself _short_ , my friend." She permitted herself a brief chuckle. "You are a very important person in Papyrus' life. You may well need his support at times, but do not allow yourself to think that you are unable to support him in return. Is that not what brothers are for?"

Frisk had reached the corner now, but hesitated. Toriel sighed. "In any case, I have a few entries I hope you will find... _humerus_." For reasons Frisk wasn't entirely sure of, Chara burst into snickers in their mind. "Let me... ah. Oh, bother, have I forgotten it?"

"Did you leave something behind, Mom?" Frisk stepped out before they could reconsider.

Toriel started. "Ah! Hello, my child. Were you worried?" She smiled. "I was simply visiting with a dear friend."

"we, uh, got company?" The new voice came from beyond the door.

Toriel sighed. "Could I ask a favor of you? In the box Kythra helped me make is a small blue book. Would you bring it here? I use it to record all the wordplay and japery I can think of."

"mind if i ask one other favor?" The other voice was quiet. Flat, Frisk thought. "i don't want to be rude, honest. but what she and i have here... i take it sort of personal. private, even."

Frisk smiled. "Then I won't listen."

The voice sighed. "thanks, kiddo. i really don't mean to give you the _cold shoulder_."

Toriel's laughter echoed down the corridor as Frisk started back.

When Frisk opened up Toriel's box, they immediately saw something new. A small piece of paper, rolled into a tube, lay nestled in a corner. Frisk gently lifted the joke book, slipping the flower between its pages, and then their eyes flicked over to the paper. A little piece of tape was on one edge, but it had been cut.

"Gonna have a look?" Chara's voice was quiet. "Even you can't hide from me that you're curious. And I won't hold it against you."

Frisk let out a slow sigh. "I... I'm not. Mom took it out when she showed me."

Chara shrugged. "Nothing wrong with being curious. Thought you were trying to be more accepting of yourself?" They paused. "And... honestly, I sort of want to see it again."

Frisk smiled. "I'm someone who won't invade Mom's privacy for curiosity."

"Sock drawer," Chara grumbled, but they relented. Frisk twirled a few times in place as they turned on their heel, then strode lightly out of the room.

Toriel hugged Frisk gently when they returned with the book, and nodded when they quickly slipped back out of earshot. It was an hour at least before she came padding down the tunnel again, still chuckling to herself. She bent and kissed Frisk gently on the forehead, stirring the child from their doze. "Thank you very much for being so patient," she said quietly. "I am feeling much better now."

Frisk smiled. "Now I know why I hadn't met your friend yet."

Toriel nodded. "He is a kindly and helpful soul, though it is hard sometimes to help him remember that fact. In truth I do not know a great deal about him. He has told me more about his brother Papyrus than about himself. We have... not even told each other our names, yet. But he shares my skill and interest in wordplay."

"You tell each other goofy jokes." Frisk was smirking slightly.

"We tell each other the finest japes we can conceive," Toriel said, raising an eyebrow even as she smiled broadly at Frisk. "But, the door to the Ruins is hardly something through which one can come and go freely, and so we simply sit, each on our side, and give each other what support we can."

Frisk thought for a moment. "Mom? Can I catch up?"

Toriel paused, glancing back towards the door. Frisk shook their head. "I won't go through tonight. I promise."

Toriel gave a long sigh, but then nodded. "I trust you, my child. I will go on ahead and wait to continue our lesson." She gave Frisk a gentle kiss atop their head, and then strode off up the tunnel.

The door was quiet as Frisk approached. They raised their hand and knocked quietly at the door. There was a long pause. "... that doesn't sound like a silly old lady's hand."

"That's because it isn't." Frisk giggled. "I just... wanted to say thank you."

The voice paused. "that... doesn't sound much like a joke."

Frisk shook their head. "I'm not good at jokes. Not like Mom or my friend." They sighed. "Mom... isn't doing too well lately."

A long sigh echoed from behind the door. "seems like a lot of that going around. but, i get it. it's that time of year she starts thinking of, well..."

Frisk nodded. "You're important to her too."

"... that why you hung around? to tell me that?" He sighed. "i mean, i'm a voice behind a door. how much help can a guy like me really be? can't even keep myself afloat most days if it weren't for pap."

"It's okay to need help." Frisk's voice was firm. "I... do too. But Mom having us around really does help. So... thank you."

"... heh. hearing that should warm my heart, kiddo, but i'm afraid i'm just chilled to the _bone_ out here." He paused, and Chara burst into laughter in Frisk's head again.

Frisk scratched their chin, and then lit up. "Oh! Are you a skeleton?"

The door chuckled. "whoops. forgot you wouldn't know. sheesh, explaining the joke always makes it fall flat." He paused. "you're that new arrival, right? the new kid she's always talking about taking care of?"

"I know. I'm a handful." Frisk grinned sheepishly.

"i sure haven't heard anything like that." He laughed. "she talks about you like she claims i talk about pap. all laughter and pride and affection. you, uh. you're pretty lucky, kid."

Frisk lowered their eyes. "I wish she were lucky too."

"she got to meet you, kiddo. from how she talks, that sounds pretty lucky to me." The door let through a sheepish chuckle. "or is this about the ones before you?"

Frisk leaned their forehead against the door. "If she were lucky, she'd have a kid who doesn't keep hurting her. Who'd just listen and be _good_."

The door sighed again. "well now. this is an awkwardly timed bit of deja vu. now, i admit to being a skeleton of very little brain..." He knocked on something that sounded distinctly hollow, and Frisk giggled softly. "but, i know some things. i know she loves you with all her heart. and i know deep down she doesn't want to make you live in the ruins forever. she's just scared. scared that you'll end up like the other kids who've come through this door here. maybe even scared you'll hurt the king. and there's really nothing you can say that'll change that." He chuckled. "a mother's always going to worry, right?"

"I call her Mom. Shouldn't I act like it?" Frisk slumped against the door and sighed.

"you do." The voice was stronger now. "leaving the ruins isn't treating her like a stranger. it's not being a bad kid. you've got a reason you decided to come to this side, right? and, besides. if you really were a stranger to her, would you be over here crying about the idea of leaving her? strangers don't care if they part, kiddo. it's the ones you love that're hard to leave."

Frisk raised their head, slowly. "And that's why you don't come live here?"

The voice chuckled. "bingo. i'd have to leave pap behind. but, the difference is, leaving pap behind might genuinely finish these weary old bones off. truth is, i'm not doing too hot either. not just 'cuz i'm _snowed in_ out here, mind. but her... i feel like i can lean on her, even though she's having trouble staying up herself. someone like her is really rare." He paused. "i certainly wouldn't blame you if you did change your mind and just... stayed with her."

Frisk smiled weakly. "You're important too."

He laughed. "she tells me that, too. usually twice or thrice. sometimes... um... quice? fofrice? whatever the word would be."

Frisk shook their head. "It's true," they insisted. "I asked Mom who she has to talk to. You're the only person she ever talked about." They drew a shaky breath. "You're a big reason she's still okay. Even if you're sad, you come here, right? For her, and maybe for you too, but for her. You let her tell you what makes her upset, right? Even though you've got your own troubles." They leaned on the door. "So... thank you. Thank you, so much."

The voice sighed. "... thanks, kid. i... i think i honestly believe you."

Frisk rapped gently on the door, and the voice chuckled out a "who's there?"

"Isn't that my line?" Frisk asked gently.

"... heh. i get what you're driving at." The voice laughed again. "heh. driving. good thing pap's not here or he'd talk your ear off about all the cars he wants to try driving. when we all get to the surface, that is."

Frisk giggled. "How does he know?"

"about cars?" The voice paused. "magazines. i, uh, bring him any i find. he loves 'em. anyway." He chuckled. "you, uh, wanted to ask my name, right?"

Frisk nodded. "Unless you don't want to tell me either."

The voice seemed to consider this. "tell you what. when you come over, i promise i'll be the first monster from this side to introduce himself. deal?"

Frisk pressed their palm to the door with a soft slap. "Deal."

The voice laughed softly. "don't worry. i kinda tend to stand out." There was a soft rattle of bones on stone. "you'll probably know me before i even have to say a word. see you soon?"

Frisk nodded. "If this works, I'll see you in two days." They paused. "I... wanted to meet you before I go."

"yeah. i already can guess why." The voice chuckled. "mind, i already have a promise to her that i have to keep to."

Frisk smiled. "But you'll take care of her?"

The voice chuckled again. "it's a promise. i'll keep an eye socket on your mom. or this door, i guess. don't worry. i know she'll be in kind of a rough spot once you go."

"Thanks." Frisk patted the door gently. They turned, and started along the hall. It wasn't until they'd drawn out of earshot of the door that they spoke again. "You're... pretty quiet."

"Yeah. He's... not the only one feeling some deja vu." Chara sighed. "We could still make a break for it."

Frisk shook their head. "Not yet."

The next morning, Toriel made her way carefully through the Ruins with her basket, still holding the note she had found that morning in lieu of a small sleepy-eyed child. She sighed happily as she rounded a familiar corner and the flower patch came into sight; Frisk was already visible, seated among the flowers there. Toriel noted with joy that they were wearing the jacket they had received for their birthday, a deep ocean-blue hooded garment with crossed purple stripes around the middle and a warm hood edged in pink. Their hood was back, and the falling snow was gathering in their hair.

"Are you hungry, my child?" Toriel settled near Frisk with a smile, opening her basket.

Frisk turned and lit up, playing shyly with their hair. "Hi, Mom."

Toriel chuckled softly. "I was surprised to find you making a request of me like this. Is there some reason you wanted us both to come out here?"

Frisk lowered their head. "Yes," they said, hesitantly. They pressed their fist against their chest for a long moment. "Mom? Isn't there another story you didn't tell me?"

Toriel caught her breath. "I suppose that would depend on what story you desired to hear."

Frisk looked to their side, where the flowers rose just a little higher than their fellows. Beneath the golden blossoms, the earth was gently raised. Frisk laid their hand there. "There's someone here besides us, right? Someone who's... sleeping."

Toriel tensed softly. She reached out, taking gentle hold of Frisk's hand. "How do you know about this, my child? I was sure no monster in the Ruins still knows, and my friend certainly would not tell, if he were old enough to remember."

Frisk sighed. "You visit them, when you come here. I can see you talking. It's why I hum."

Toriel broke into a soft laugh. "I... see. You are marvelously observant." She sighed. "It is true. In this place, beneath the flowers, lies a child who came into my life long before I had met even Peloche. And you... wish to know their story as well, do you not?"

Frisk froze for a long moment. Finally, they raised their fist and bobbed it a few times. Toriel nodded, and embraced them tightly. "This is not something easy to tell, I admit. Even as long as it has been, to remember what happened is... painful."

Frisk shivered. "It's up to you."

"You have asked, and I will tell." Toriel shook her head. "In any case, it is hardly right to tell the stories of the other children, and not this one. But... not here, please. I would not feel right telling this story where they lie sleeping."

Frisk nodded. While Toriel busied herself with lunch, Chara hissed in their ear. "What the _fuck_ are you doing, Frisk? You know exactly what story you are asking for. How dare you ask another when one will not?"

Frisk closed their eyes. "I need to do this. I can't leave until I do."

Chara laughed weakly. "So. You wish to betray me as well? I had, in truth, considered that you might be an exception that proves the rule. But, no. You are just like them."

"We'll see." Frisk slipped to Toriel's side and nestled against her as they ate lunch in the snow.

It was not until that night when Toriel broached the subject again. "Are you certain you wish to hear this?" She swallowed. "This story is... not pleasant."

Frisk clambered into Toriel's lap and nestled against her. "Just promise me something."

Toriel nodded. "What might that be?"

Frisk pressed their hands to the pink band around their chest and shivered as their soul settled into their hands, filling the room with bright red light. For a moment, Toriel recalled the dawns she had been able to enjoy once, more than one lifetime ago. "Don't stop. Even if I look upset, or tell you to. I want to hear it all."

Toriel's eyes fixed quietly on Frisk's soul. "Fair is fair?" she asked gently, letting a claw rest hesitantly against the gleaming heart. "Very well."

"Who... is sleeping under the flowers?" Frisk asked, after a long moment.

Toriel gave a long sigh. "To answer that, I must go back a long way. Back to before I divided Home from the rest of the Underground, before Peloche was even born, and before Asgore ever even contemplated declaring war." She closed her eyes. "Back to a time when he and I were... together."

Frisk flashed a grin. "Mom, wouldn't that make you..."

Toriel laughed. "Must I?" She shook her head. "Very well, then. To introduce myself properly, I am Toriel Dreemurr, formerly queen of all monsters and Asgore's constant companion, and presently abdicating my throne to serve as caretaker of Home."

Frisk tilted their head. "You still call yourself Dreemurr?"

Toriel nodded. "Asgore and I spent a very long time together, my child. We were deeply in love, once." She snorted. "I imagine that if Gerson is still alive, he could tell more than a handful of stories about how... public we were, about our bond. What we had lies in ashes and ruin, but I find myself loath to give up the name we share. A weakness of mine, no doubt, or perhaps my own little remembrance to what we had." She paused. "Precious little else remains of that, after all."

"What... do you mean?" Frisk was shivering now.

Toriel kissed the top of their head. "Asgore and I had a son, long ago. A monster child, born of our souls, the crown prince." She paused. "This, mind, was after the Barrier was cast. Our child had never seen the surface, but the stories of it that he heard fascinated him. I would often find him where the flower patch is now, staring up at the sky as I have seen you do."

Frisk giggled shyly. "He sounds cute."

Toriel gave a warm laugh. "He was indeed. We spoiled him unabashedly, but he was a wonderful person at heart. If a bit quick to suggest active opposition to things that he thought wrong." She paused. "One day, however, I was resting in Home while he wandered. I was preparing to go and search for him when I heard his paws padding on the ground, hard and fast and labored, and heard him calling for help. When I went out to meet him, he was clumsily carrying a human child, badly injured and barely conscious." She winced. "They had lost a great deal of blood, and more than one bone was broken in the same manner as Sabail's arm. When I first saw their eyes, they were so dull I feared life had already left their body. It was, in truth, less a testament to my skill and more a genuine miracle that they did not die that very night."

Frisk pressed a little more firmly into Toriel's arms. "Did they get better?"

"It took a long time." Toriel sighed. "But yes. I was, in time, able to heal them, though their fall left a number of scars in its wake. Longer still was the healing that their heart truly needed." She closed her eyes. "You yourself are aware, yes? 'Travelers upon the slopes of Mount Ebott will never return.' I am... certain you can imagine the sort of state that child was in when they came into our kingdom."

Frisk nodded weakly. "I know."

Toriel let her hand rest gently atop Frisk's head. "It was some time before we even knew their name. The human hated themself, deeply and viciously. The protective measures I have taken to make everything in my home non-threatening date back to those days. I knew the signs, and took steps to make sure the human could not try to finish what the fall began. Worse, they denied any idea that they could belong somewhere. I heard them, at times, arguing with our son that they had to leave before their presence brought ruin upon us. They shied away from the touch of anyone, and would sometimes try to strike whoever laid hands on them. And yet..." She smiled. "Our son, the human trusted. Perhaps they felt a need to hold on to someone, anyone... and there was the kind, curious boy who had responded to their sole cry for help, who so stubbornly told them that he did not want them to die or be unhappy, who did everything he could to make them feel warm and safe..." She chuckled. "And it perhaps did not hurt that he was willing to indulge the human's fondness for the pads of his paws."

Frisk giggled again, peeking up at Toriel. "They really liked him."

Toriel beamed. "They loved him dearly. The mere idea of someone genuinely caring for them was worth far more than our son could understand. They never spoke of it, but..." Her face fell into a stern line. "I recognized the signs well. Those who the human was bound to by blood deserved no part of the title of 'parent'. Worse, certain things they said..." She closed her eyes. "I suspected that those beasts had eventually tired of tormenting their own flesh and blood, and cast them out."

Frisk caught their breath, staring into the flickering warmth of their soul.

_The car was hot and stank of things they decided not to parse the source of. They flicked a page idly over, hardly paying attention to the words and images before them._

_They only lifted their eyes when the car slowed down. They had been driving for a while now, but this looked nothing like an actual stop. Off to the left was a small, sleepy-looking town, behind which loomed a green mountain with stark slopes._

_"Right. Your stop," An angry sound like static hissing and a feline snarl cut across whatever word came next._

_They raised an eyebrow at this, and looked out the window again. "Just mine? Might you clarify the meaning? I neglected to ask the particulars of our outing."_

_The door clicked loudly and began to open on its automatic tracks. Quietly, they cursed that his one talent was electrical ingenuity. "I said, your stop. As in, get out."_

_They held the old text a little tighter against their chest, staring out at... nothing. A road, gravel, a town, a mountain. "I do not see anything I could rightly understand to be a 'stop'..."_

_A familiar crack sounded out, and pain lanced across their neck. Their eyes whipped over to see her turned around and glaring. Her face was blocked from view, sight gouged away into black obscurity like a rent film still, but still they knew her. "Don't just sit there staring with those freakish eyes! Get out!"_

_They could feel their heart slow down. The car had not even properly stopped. "I... I do not comprehend..."_

_Another crack. Their shoulder this time. Then she lunged, grappling with their buckle and ripping the belt off of them. Their bag went tumbling out of the car, and she made a movement towards them and they suddenly_ did _comprehend and ducked and dove in a panic._

_Gravel did nothing to cushion their impact, and they laid there in a daze, still holding the book. As they watched, the car picked up speed again, and the door slid smoothly back shut. With a sigh, they turned over to stare up at the mountain that rose over the town._

"My child?" Toriel's claw pressed gently to their cheek. "You are... unusually quiet."

Frisk gasped softly, turning their head to nuzzle into her palm. "I'm... sorry." They paused. "That... um... I was just startled."

"I understand." Toriel leaned in to rest her muzzle atop Frisk's head again. "You have asked me to continue regardless, yes? But, all this left the human who our son had rescued reluctant to trust, and deeply hurt. They feared even Asgore, and I speak the utmost truth when I say that before all this happened, the idea of him harming a child would have been unthinkable." She smiled. "But, with time, they came to accept that our love was not a delusion or a trick. Our son convinced them of that. And so, the human finally told to us their true name, not the vile name they had worn on the surface, and became not just 'the human', but 'our child'."

Frisk smiled. "What were their names?"

Toriel chuckled gently. "We named our son Asriel. And the name Asriel convinced the human to share with us was Chara."

"Chara~" Frisk practically hummed the name.

Toriel smiled. "When they finally could bring themself to lower their guard, Chara took more than readily to life as part of our family. They clung to Asriel's side as if they were his shadow, when they were outside of Home, but they also began to grow more open and trusting with Asgore and myself. They were..." She laughed. "Chara was certainly an interesting child. Their skin was olive, like yours and Kythra's, but warmer and lighter. Their hair was so soft and delicate; I often had to gently remind Asriel about intruding when I found him trying to play with Chara's reddish-brown locks. Their eyes, however, were the most striking of all: a bright, beautiful red like a polished gem. They seemed to never quite believe us, but they seemed so quietly pleased when any of us told them how lovely their eyes were." She smiled. "Chara loved puns and wordplay perhaps even more than I, and they were content to spend hours at a time simply relaxing and speaking with Asgore as he puttered about his garden or made pot after pot of his many teas. Asgore loved his flowers, dearly, and he knew so much about them. Chara would settle at his side, or work along with him in the garden, and learn. He even taught them about the meanings humans had given to flowers, the silly sentimental fool."

Toriel chuckled. "Truth be told, I envied Asgore at times. Chara always seemed just a little more at ease around him than me. For my own part..." She paused. "I could see what ate away at Chara deep within. Perhaps that is why they seemed always slightly more on guard. I understood their pain and worry, and I moved to keep it from turning to a desire to harm. To do this, I set out to help them learn to create things, to make what could bring joy to others."

Frisk glanced across the room to where their scarf hung. "You taught Chara to knit."

Toriel smiled brightly. "It would be more accurate to say that Chara and I taught ourselves to knit together. I did, however, teach them the magic that still resides in that scarf. I taught them as I have tried to teach you, of course. They were perhaps not the best of students, but I hardly expect every child to be so easily engaged." She shook her head.

Frisk giggled. "What did they like learning?"

"Astronomy, most of all." Toriel laughed. "But I should hardly expect differently from a child who named themself after a star, and one not particularly well-known, at that. Neither Asgore nor myself was particularly knowledgeable about stars, however, and we had to rely on cast-off textbooks from the surface. Botany fascinated them as well; I had Asgore to thank for that. And literature, of course. Even I sometimes could not identify the passages Chara would recall with relative ease. Asriel made it a goal every time he went out without them to bring back at least one book for Chara." She paused. "History, on the other hand, Chara all but outright refused to learn."

She raised a finger. "Chara's coming also heralded a period of significant change for monsters. Following the war, we had retreated far belowground, as far as we could from the cavern that was the sole entrance to our prison. Fearing that some humans would desire to complete our destruction, we made our capital in the furthest reach." She paused. "That would be here, in the Ruins that were once Home. However, Chara changed us. They were not the nicest of people, maybe, but they were never actively malicious. They genuinely loved Asriel, and came to love the rest of us as well. We took heart from this. Those of us who had known the surface recalled the humans we had known and befriended. Many refused to join in war against us, even risking imprisonment rather than bring us harm. Those who did not had now met their first human: a shy, sharp-edged child a few months the junior of the crown prince, whose love for Asriel was beautiful and undeniable." She laughed. "The two of them were almost as bad as Asgore and I at times, if not quite as public."

Frisk nodded. "Everyone loved them."

"They did indeed." Toriel's voice was warm as she embraced the child in her arms. "And from that love was born hope. A human child had come to live in the Underground, and to be loved by those who lived there, and even to love that life they had found when once they desired to have none at all. How could we fear humans? There, among us, was the proof that we had needed desperately. Perhaps not all, but humans and monsters could live together. Seizing on the opportunity, Asgore and I spearheaded a movement for monsters to expand to fill the Underground with life and love and joy. We began to build a new capital and a new castle for us to live in and govern from, and we did so in the very cavern that we had feared the humans' incursion from for such a long time." She winked. "Asgore proudly declared that it would be called 'New Home'."

"Asgore's not very creative." Frisk blinked.

Toriel burst into laughter. "He never has been. Industrious, empathetic, devoted, but the ability to name creatively is not among his virtues." She shook her head. "Chara was at the core of this movement. Reassured by their presence, monsters were far more willing than ever before to follow Asgore and I out into the rest of our home. Asgore introduced them to everyone, one day. Chara was utterly stunned by the monsters' response. There were many monsters, even Asgore, who took to calling Chara 'the hope of humans and monsters'."

At that phrase, Frisk tensed visibly, and Toriel hung her head. "It was an utterly and terribly foolish mistake on our part. A mistake that would cost us all dearly."

Frisk stared, shivering. "Wh-why would that be a mistake?"

In their ear, someone was laughing. "Of course it would be. How could it not, to expect a wretch worthless even among worthless humans to give hope to people?"

Toriel closed her eyes. "To think that even I could not see the burden those words laid upon Chara. I am ashamed, for myself and on behalf of the kingdom I once ruled." The laughter cut off with a choking sound. "They were a child, still. When Chara arrived they were not much more than a year, perhaps two, older than you. And yet we hung the hopes of monsters, beings they loved and cherished and for whom losing hope would mean death, and of humans, for whom they held no love at all, on their shoulders and theirs alone." She sighed. "When I saw them after the announcement, their eyes looked so... hopeful. As if they finally believed they were allowed to belong somewhere, as if they could finally believe that our kingdom was something _real_ and _safe_ and that they could honestly consider not dying after all if they could live here. But I also saw a deep, passionate drive in Chara."

Frisk shifted. "To do what?"

Toriel sighed. "Anything, so long as it improved our lot. Among their other virtues, Chara was impossibly ambitious, and they would not stand for a lack of it in others. In truth, many of us had decided that the wisest course of action was to find things to love here, in the Underground. Gerson, Asgore, and I all agreed it would be best. Humans had acted out of fear, and while we understood their actions, we neither condoned them nor wanted to live in a way that risked their recurrence. Chara, on the other hand..." She shook her head. "Understand, my child, that Chara held a deep and bitter hatred for humanity. They never told us the exact reasons, but I know the signs of a child who has suffered at the hands of those whose duty is to protect them."

She gave a weak smile. "That you do not hold a similar hatred for me, after all I have done to hurt you, I in truth consider a miracle I scarcely can pretend to deserve."

Frisk wrapped their free arm around Toriel's shoulders. "I don't hate you." They smiled hesitantly back. "I... don't hate humans either. Honest."

Toriel shook her head. "There is a deep resilience about you that I have never before encountered," she agreed. "However. To Chara, for humans to own the surface and all that we loved about it, solely by virtue of a war that they began and whose cessation they declared the terms of, was utterly unacceptable. The destruction of the Barrier weighed heavily on their mind, and when Asriel drew images of the character he made up as a sort of superhero self, I saw Chara looking with something akin to desire at them."

"So..." Frisk chewed their lip pensively. "What... did it mean, that Chara was hope?"

Toriel shook her head. "It is not that we wished them to do anything. I am certain Chara's mind was filled with ideas of some far-off duty that they would have to perform, but in truth... simply being there, simply being alive... that was enough. We could be happy, because they were there, and for us, that was more than we had dared believe could happen." She winced. "For Chara, it was not enough."

Frisk nodded. "What did you do?"

Toriel pulled Frisk a tiny bit closer. "Chara tried to convince me to train them in combat. I... refused. The wounds from the war were far more raw, back then, and I was... To be honest, Chara's reasoning frightened me. One should never engage in battle fully prepared to sacrifice your life." She sighed. "Instead, I offered to train them to take on the same role I had. As queen, I acted often as Asgore's advisor, a clear head when his own was taken with passion and emotion and haste. But, one day Asriel would be king, I pointed out. Who better to take his side, to guide and support and care for him, than the human who had grown with him?"

Frisk smiled shyly. "Mom taught Chara?"

Toriel nodded, and gave a gentle laugh. "Most absolutely. Their lessons were... in retrospect, rather not dissimilar to Sabail's. I taught them of our history, and of the state of our kingdom at the time. They were, at first, hesitant. Surely, or so I imagine they feared, a careless word at the wrong time, a belief in opposition to my own, would provoke my anger, and... consequences." She sighed, long and slow, and for a moment she looked impossibly aged to Frisk. "It was some time before Chara's passion came to the fore. They had accompanied me, as I asked them to at times, to a small meeting. Engrossed as I was in my attempts to broker compromise between the deadlocked parties, I hardly noticed their agitation until I suddenly heard a child's voice shout out, 'Does each and every monster present intend to continue ignoring the obvious solution at hand?'" A warm smile crossed her muzzle. "And when I turned, there was Chara, glaring, Asriel for once behind rather than before and holding their arm as if he wanted to hold them back. To be honest, I do not fully recall the details of the agreement, but while Chara's suggestion was not one we could implement as stated, their outburst shocked the discussion into motion once more." She laughed again. "Chara was _quite_ a bit more vocal with me after that."

Frisk beamed. "They finally opened up?"

"Perhaps a bit too much." Toriel winked. "With their fear mostly assuaged, Chara all but ceased to 'toe the line', as it were, when it came to the false rules they imagined they had to follow to be 'allowed' to remain a part of our family." She shook her head ruefully. "Mind, I hardly allowed them to discard rules entirely. It was only those they had created for themself that they cast aside. As they had told us their 'true name' where once they believed they must abide by that which their parents assigned them, so Chara became comfortable enough to show us their 'true self'."

Frisk froze. "Chara... told you their deadname?"

Toriel winced. "At first. Asriel was... adamant, however, and he was able to convince them that they were allowed to be themself. That we _wanted_ them to be comfortable, and happy." She smiled. "The time we knew them as anything else was mercifully small compared to the time we knew them as 'Chara'."

Frisk nodded. "Did... Chara live here for a long time?"

Toriel embraced them gently. "Less by far than I would ever have wished for, but yes. Chara had years to spend in the Underground, with us. They grew, and they learned, and they loved. It was so.. heartening to see them grow. There was a time when Chara believed they were incapable of love, and yet as time went on, they grew to love not only us, but the Underground itself. It was not only our family; while they were certainly few in number, Chara grew to treasure those monsters who they could bring themself to trust and relax around." She chuckled. "Mind, Asriel did not allow that particular misconception to remain long. And he broke it in rather spectacular fashion. I myself had not ever conceived of nose nuzzling as such a tool."

Frisk raised an eyebrow. "Nose nuzzling...?"

In response, Toriel swept Frisk into her arms and began to twirl with them, nestling her muzzle gently against their face. Frisk instinctively clung with their free arm, nuzzling eagerly back. Their soul shone brightly, and suddenly the room filled with a burst of colored sparks and tiny streamers and thin sheets like scarves that vanished shortly thereafter. "Love and magic together are a wondrous thing, my child," she said with a gentle laugh, as Frisk stared wide-eyed at the display. "When the magic of two people who love each other dearly mingles, its strength cannot be contained. It bursts forth in a display of radiance and emotion, shaped by the hearts of the two who created it. Asgore and I... well." She shook her head. "Suffice to say Chara could hardly grow up in our home without learning rather directly of the practice. Asriel soon became adamant that he and they train together to surpass even the two of us. Chara... despaired at the idea at first, but sure enough..."

"They did it?" Frisk was beaming, still staring at the last of the sparks.

Toriel beamed back. "They did indeed. It was a more reserved, subtle sort of display, of course, befitting Chara's guarded nature, but still beautiful in its own right to see their flowers blossom about the two children as they held each other. And to Chara, it was absolute, undeniable proof of what to them seemed impossible. They were not broken, or heartless, or a demon. They could, and already did, return the same love and care to Asriel and to everyone else that they had been shown."

Frisk had grown pensive as she spoke. "Mom... I don't understand."

Toriel let her claw press against Frisk's leg. "What is it that you do not understand, my child?"

Frisk sighed. "What could've happened..."

Toriel sat down heavily on the bed. "Indeed. Truly, it would have taken something drastic to bring about the end that came. A colossal, imbecilic, unconscionable failure." She sighed. "But that is exactly what occurred."

Frisk shivered. "Did... something happen to Asriel?"

Toriel winced. "Not yet. Chara had been with us for some time. I recall we had not yet celebrated their third year." She paused. "We never did know what day they had been born on, mind you. Instead, we celebrated the day that Asriel found them as their birthday. They seemed... content with that." She shook her head. "Led by Chara, the children set out to make a pie as a surprise to Asgore. However, we had run out of a particular ingredient. Not wishing to chance that word would reach him, Chara elected a solution that appealed to two of their great loves: from Asgore, flowers and floriography, and from me, wordplay and cleverness. In place of the missing _cups of butter_ , Chara decided that they would substitute _buttercups_."

Frisk blinked in confusion, and Toriel winced. "This is not a fact widely known, my child, but buttercups are actually a poisonous flower. To ruminants, and apparently monsters like myself who resemble them, extremely so. Not wishing to upset the children, Asgore ignored the warning signs of their acrid flavor and ate more than one heaping slice."

Frisk's eyes went wide, their free hand pressing to their chest, and...

_She had her back to them, when they approached the door. It was a long moment before they could bring themself to give the light stamp that was their agreed signal._

_They could see it, when she turned. The earlier fear had left her eyes, but her muscles were still tense, coiled springs wound by fury. Waiting to be called upon to punish. Her eyes, for the brief moment they met, brimmed with sorrow. They could not meet her gaze for long, nor bring themself to look at how her body readied itself to strike. They could hear her breathe, slow and deep, preparing, as they stared at her paws and hesitantly let their hands move._

_~Will he be all right?~_

_"Your father will be..." She paused. They were sure they had kept themself from flinching when she spoke, but: "Asgore will be all right. He will certainly be feeling weak and ill for some time, and at present his appearance may be somewhat alarming, but at this point there is no danger to his life."_

_Their arms clenched against their body as their hands moved again, restricting themself. ~May I go in and speak with him?~_

_She gave a weary sigh. "Of course you may," she said, her voice heavy with her attempts to remain warm. "However, first I would ask you to share what you hesitate to ask."_

_They cursed their hands for a long moment. Ungainly, long-fingered, good only for wrapping around a knitting needle rather than the haft of a weapon, and now it seemed they betrayed them even as they signed. ~The anticipation only worsens the experience. Please, whatever you desire to do, I would have you do it now.~_

_She knelt, and their eyes flicked quickly down to stare pointedly at their socks, still wet and flecked with dirt and grass from the garden. From the place they had found them. "Chara, I confess I am upset with you. Lack of intent is not an excuse for the grave consequences that result. In truth, I thought I had taught you better than to think it would not be dangerous to add an ingredient you had never worked with before." She drew a breath. "I do not, however, intend to harm you. What happened to Gorey was awful, but there was no hatred in it. You love him, and you always have. Were I to raise a hand against you, it would be deliberate and malicious. I will not treat a child like a criminal."_

_Her arms reached out, gentle and slow as they always had, to embrace them. "I love you dearly, Chara. I am angry, but I will not hurt you because of it. And the time to discuss these things is not when you are wracked with guilt over what you have inadvertently brought about."_

_Their hands moved more languidly now. Their betrayal accomplished, now they hindered them from even communication. ~Why... do you still not hate me? Why do you not cast me out?~_

_She rose gently. "Whyever should I hate you?" she asked gently. "Anger is not hatred, Chara. Hatred is something ugly that lingers when anger is spent. It is deliberate bitterness towards someone you wish ill towards. Do you want for me to wish you ill?"_

_They stared into her eyes for a long moment. Slowly, their hands moved. ~I... would like to go and see him.~_

_She nodded. "Of course. I only ask that you understand that he must stop if talking grows too painful or difficult." Still cradling them against herself, she slid into the bedroom. "Gorey, dear. You have a visitor."_

_"Howdy, Chara." Their face was still buried in her shoulder, breathing deeply. His voice wheezed and bubbled quietly. "Tori, would you mind...?"_

_She set them down gently on the bed. "Not at all. But you must promise you will signal me if you worsen again."_

_His weight lay just behind them, somehow huge and comforting despite his frail state. She leaned close, giving them plenty of warning before kissing their forehead and departing._

_They still could not bring themself to look at him. Awkwardly, they flexed their fingers and rapidly signed letters in his direction. ~How are you feeling?~_

_He wheezed softly. "Better, now that Tori had been tending to me. Do not let her frighten you, my dear Chara. We all make mistakes, and she knows that very well. She still loves you."_

_His hand settled beside them, and they turned to wind their fingers around his claws for a long moment before they let go again. ~Please say that you at least hate me for this. I_ poisoned _you.~_

_"You did." His voice was gentle and even. "I'm pretty sure you'd be upset if I lied and said I feel fine. It... hurts. Not as much now that your mother has been helping me, but..." He managed a weak chuckle. "Golly, if only buttercups weren't poisonous though. Tori could be having a chuckle right now about your silly pun, and I'd be gently appreciating the wish those flowers carried on your behalf."_

_After a moment, he sighed. "Look at me, please, Chara. There is something I want to say."_

_They turned, and..._

_You have to stifle a shout. You had some idea of what to expect, you've seen plenty of depictions of illness and injury; you even can still remember some of the plodding melodramatic Lifetime movies the one old woman who took you in for a month before she stroked out (your curse, naturally) played day in and day out._

_Asgore's state is nothing like what you expected. His eyes are heavy and bleary, rimmed with a darkness that puts your own eyebags to shame. When his lips part, you can see his tongue, dried out and a sick purplish-black color. Each cough is a deep, heavy gust of air over you, and you can see milky-white gather around his jaw where you'd normally expect to see trickles of blood._

_The particulars are not what make you want to scream. It is the entirety. Asgore looks... the only word you can grasp to describe his appearance is "soggy". His body no longer appears solid; everything about him droops, as if he were wax being melted from within by some unholy flame._

_(Not flame. Flowers. Poison fed to him. You did this to him. This is your fault.)_

_He gives you a weary smile, and reaches for you. Despite everything, his hand is warm and heavy and comforting as he rests it on your head, and you press your forehead needily against his fur. "How curious," he says, his voice struggling for what little mirth he can still muster. For you. In spite of the fact that you are the reason he has so little. "I've never seen a 'demon'... cry before."_

_Your hands are moving almost before he finishes. ~Look at what I've done. How can you not be angry with me? Why will nobody punish me?~_

_He just smiles. "You are already doing a fine job of that yourself," he says gently. "I do not wish to add to the pain your guilt is already bringing you. And, besides..."_

_His hands are firm and gentle, despite how labored the motions clearly are. ~You are my child, Chara, and I love you very much.~_

_You laugh. You laugh, and you laugh, and you can't stop. It's so funny. How could it not be, when this punchline has been so meticulously long in the crafting? The last three years of your life have been the buildup, and now here it is at last, the joke so long in the telling that you had forgotten you were telling it, and it's the funniest thing. You're laughing so hard that tears are streaming down your face. It's so funny._

_You're still laughing when the man you dared to think of as father reaches for you, concern in his eyes, but then he starts those tearing, hacking coughs again and you slip away and off of the bed. Toriel is dutiful as ever, refusing to leave her husband's bedside, and you slide past her easily as well. You're still laughing when you collide headlong with Asriel in the hallway, his face blurred and misty as he tries to catch you and ask you what's wrong, and you shove him off roughly and run and his shout of pain only makes you laugh more..._

"But it's not funny."

Frisk's eyes snapped open as Chara's words echoed in their mind. Toriel was gazing worriedly down at them, cradling the child in the crook of her arm. "I realize you have asked me not to stop," she said, softly, "but I am growing more and more concerned. If this is too painful for you to hear, there is nothing wrong with us setting the story aside. You are allowed to take care of yourself."

"Frisk, what the hell was that?" Chara's voice sounded as if it were on the verge of breaking into laughter. "I can hardly claim to be an expert, but I am fairly certain _that_ is not how your interactions with my memories are supposed to be... You were shutting me out too, completely, I couldn't stop you."

Toriel squeezed Frisk gently, watching the child's fist as it circled around their heart. "Let us stop for the night, my child. I have heard that kind of laughter far too often not to know what it portends." She winced. "I heard that laugh for the first time in a long time, that night."

Chara's voice cracked. "Frisk, whatever it is you're planning, just stop. This will only get worse. I don't understand what you think you have to do, but it's not worth it. Please..."

Frisk suddenly tensed. "No!" They were panting, shaken, but the light from their soul was only growing brighter. "Don't stop. I want to do this."

"... can't you just let me have my secrets?" Chara's voice crumpled in surrender.

Toriel sighed quietly. "If you insist." She drew in a long breath. "Chara fled our presence when they saw the state Asgore was in. The next morning, I found the bed they and Asriel shared neatly made with a note tucked partway beneath the pillow. 'Mom, Chara's running away from home. I can't make them stay, so I have to go with them. We'll be back once I get Chara to calm down and come home.' I..." She shivered. "It was a week before I saw either of my children again."

Frisk nodded. "Asriel took care of Chara?"

"As he always had." Toriel smiled weakly. "It was Asriel who found Chara and brought them to us in the first place. Over the years, he had come to view himself as their protector. It was a role he cherished." She sighed. "But, Chara did not come back the same person as they had been. They closed themself off again from all but Asriel. To him, they clung all the tighter."

Frisk bit their lip. "Were you... really mad at Chara?"

Toriel sighed. "I was upset, yes. Carelessness can kill just as easily as malice, under the right circumstances. I was shocked, too, by their lack of forethought. And of course, above all else, first the man I loved had been laid deathly ill by their mistake, and then they vanished from my life along with my son and left me to worry for both of my children for longer than a week."

Frisk's face crumpled. "Mom... did you... I mean..."

Toriel laid her hand gently against Frisk's cheek. "Never." She smiled quietly. "Every child who has entered my life has always been and will always be my child. That includes you, and it includes Chara as well." Her face fell. "The only one who thought 'Chara should no longer be a part of this family', was Chara. I could read that in their sudden politeness, in their detached choice of words, in their body language, and so I... I ceased, for the time, to refer to myself as 'your mother' or Asgore as 'your father'. I thought I should be patient and wait for them to recover from their shock, rather than insist and risk deepening their anguish." She closed her eyes. "Another foolish decision, in retrospect. I am certain it only made Chara believe that I really did despise them."

Frisk paused, and slowly began to smile again. "You didn't... throw them out?"

Toriel squeezed Frisk tightly. "I would never do that to any of my children," she said, sternly. "That includes you as well."

Frisk beamed quietly. "You never stopped loving Chara."

"Never." Toriel's eyes twinkled. "It is not because of hatred that I have hesitated to tell this story, my dear child. I love Chara, deeply. It is simply that... it is hard to bring myself to remember. The more deeply you love someone, the easier it is to be hurt. The more you care, the less you are prepared when they depart your life forever. And Chara's departure was neither simple nor peaceful."

Frisk stared into Toriel's eyes. "What... happened to Chara, Mom?"

Toriel stared steadily back. "Not long after Asriel brought Chara home again, Chara became... very sick." She paused, and then laughed quietly. "Sick, I say, but... you have guessed already, have you not? You are, even to your own detriment, a wise and perceptive child."

Frisk made a pained whimpering noise. "What did they do?"

"Poison." Toriel's voice was leaden. "In an act of what I am sure they thought to be _justice_ , Chara poisoned themself by eating the very same flowers that had made Asgore so violently ill. Over several weeks, they grew sicker and sicker."

Frisk stared. "But... couldn't you stop them?"

Toriel's laugh was longer this time. "I had not the faintest idea," she said. "Fool that I was, I thought that Chara's heart had healed. The bitterness that they felt, the lingering remains of the desire that drove them to climb Mount Ebott three years before..." She sighed. "I was so _sure_ that we would be enough. I was so certain that we had filled Chara's life with such love that they would be able to drown any such thoughts. It had been months since they laid a hand on the little box I had made for them, since the ward set into its lid had warned me that Chara would shortly need my magic." She closed her eyes. "But I was wrong, and it was Chara who paid the price for my mistake."

Frisk pressed close. "That isn't your fault..."

"It is." Toriel's voice was suddenly like iron. "I failed them, failed them more surely than any other child who has come into my life. Even more surely than I have failed you." She took a breath. "Buttercups evolved their poison to discourage animals from eating them, not to kill them. The dramatic effect they had on Asgore was not present when a human child ate them. Their 'illness' was long and slow, and day after day I had to watch my magic accomplish nothing."

Frisk paused. "But... how did they get the flowers?"

Toriel breathed in slowly. "I... have my suspicions. But you are correct. Chara was bedridden within days; they could not replenish their supply of flowers. Considering what happened after, however, I have an idea of how they were able to continue their plan regardless."

She sighed. "As their illness wound on, I grew desperate. Asgore would sit by their bed, imploring them not to pass on. To 'stay determined'. Even then, he continued to call them hope." She winced. "How could I not have seen how much that bore down on them even more? I tried my best to keep on as things had been, to treat things as if nothing were different. To teach them more magic was impossible in their state, but I tried my best to continue our lessons. When the days turned into weeks, I prepared to celebrate their third birthday since coming into our family. They tried to protest, with the same fervor I saw in you when you tried to deny sharing your own with them. But I would hear none of it." She smiled hesitantly. "It would be the last birthday we would celebrate with Chara. Deep down, I feared that, and I put forth my utmost. They seemed... happy, at least. I wanted them to at least spend their last days surrounded by those who loved them."

She sighed, and lowered her head. Frisk closed their eyes slowly.

_"Chara."_

_Their eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. He was by their side, muzzle against their cheek. They had not noticed him slip away nor return; their awareness was finally starting to falter. Hopefully, that would mean it would be soon. "Asri."_

_The rasp of their voice made even them wince now. He shivered slightly at their side. "You sound... awful, Chara. Can't we just... take a break? Let Mom heal you up?"_

_Their hand circled quietly at their chest for a moment. He sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't doubt you. It's just..."_

_Their hands shifted. ~I know. It was not supposed to take so much time for me to die.~_

_He winced slightly and buried his muzzle closer against them. "I'm not exactly okay with you dying either, still. You know that."_

_They managed a weak smile. ~It should be over, soon. Have you brought the flowers?~_

_He drew carefully away and settled in front of them, white fog still hiding his face. "I'm kinda mad at myself," he said, conversationally, as he pulled out the little earth-stained bag. "I caught myself wishing you'd be around longer again today."_

_The chuckle that escaped them grated at their throat, but they could not help it. ~I cannot keep staying 'just a little longer', Asri. Much as I, too, would dearly love to see how utterly cool you look once these come in.~_

_They reached out, hesitantly touching his head with the tip of their little finger, feeling the budding horns that were finally starting to come in. When they drew their hand back, tiny spots of blood stood out on his fur. They winced and circled their chest again._

_He shook his head gently. "Chara, I don't mind getting a little messy if it means you get to touch me." He gently shook out the bag, his cupped palm starting to fill with yellow flowers with fat petals heavy with poison. They could see him hesitate, as always, and..._

_You lunge forward with what little strength you have left, burying your face against his palm as you virtually graze on the buttercups he's brought you, like an_ animal _. It fits you, a little, except even livestock usually produce something of worth before they're butchered._

_Your tongue is as sharp as ever in both senses of the word, and so the acrid taste is as nauseating as ever. Still, when you signal Asriel to help you sit back up, nothing but shreds of petals remain. You've made sure to eat all the shoots, at least._

_He squeezes your shoulders gently, and you can see the wince he tries to hide. His fur protects him from the worst of it, but he's been picking the buttercups for you for a long time now. "How are you feeling, Chara?"_

_That idiot. You're still visibly chewing, how are you supposed to focus when all you can taste is the flowers trying desperately to warn you not to eat more? You make a sharp sign at him and try to swallow._

_You feel the lump in your throat before it even forms, stringy plant matter dragging itself along every wheal and sore their predecessors have left in your abused muscles and sliding to a halt. Your body, ever the traitor from the day you were born, tries to reject what it knows to be toxic. You force down a retch and motion briskly to Asriel._

_His arms are around you in an instant, and you feel his claws at your throat. He's as gentle as the day he found you despite how he's grown, and in a moment of weakness you cling to him as well despite knowing the damage you'll do to his fur. Gently his claws caress at the swell in your neck, the soft, repetitive motions slowly forcing your body to surrender, to permit this rank sustenance entry. You can hear and feel the gulp you finally make, and pant for breath as the buttercups drag their slow path down inside of you._

_The moment the last strands slide out of your throat, it's your stomach's turn to play Antenor. Asriel's hand presses gently against your belly even as you start retching, however, and you can feel his magic at work, forcing it to accept. Your nausea slowly subsides, and your hands ball up in his fur and the weave of his sweater._

_You know he hates this. Healing magic was never meant to be used this way, to keep someone from vomiting up something that absolutely does not belong in their stomach. But here he is, doing it anyway, for you. "Asri," you murmur softly into his shoulder._

_His hands cradle you carefully as your body finally gives in and accepts its cargo of venom. "Stop blaming yourself," he whispers. "I chose to do this. If it's upsetting me, that's my fault for not saying no."_

_You know on some level this is true. You also know on another it is a blatant falsehood. Asriel can't bring himself to tell you no, not when it comes to something this important. You've banked on his faithfulness all this time, after all, the uncertain certainty that Asriel will never, ever betray you._

_You can't sign, not when you and he are clinging so tightly, so you force your throat to take a little more abuse. "I'm so tired of this, Asri. I'm sick of hurting, and I'm sick of making you hurt me. I just... want this to end."_

_He sighs a little. "I don't want you to die, Chara. I know it's selfish, but..."_

_Your hands find his chest and press in gently. "Just... think about the life we'll have together, after it all. Asri, please."_

_"I know. I won't doubt you, Chara." His voice is hesitant. "I just... I want it to happen as far from now as possible. I want to be able to hold you like this as long as I can."_

_You laugh, ignoring the fresh lines of pain that run along your throat. You can just about manage to move your hands again, so. ~Asri, that's natural. You love me, you idiot. Of course you want to enjoy things while they last. Who knows what I'll become, once you take my soul?~_

_Asriel pauses. "Whatever you become..." His voice is sharp suddenly. "You have to be with me. You can't disappear after all this. Okay?"_

_It feels almost like a command, but your smile is genuine. ~How could I? You'll be my entire world once I die, Asri. I told you, did I not? Once you take my soul, I can never run away again.~_

_Asriel's phone buzzes suddenly, and he lights up. His hands move to hold your wrists gently, and before you can mention that you honestly feel just a little nervous like this, he ducks in close and something fuzzy and soft presses against your mouth._

_You... definitely did not expect your first kiss to be anything like this. In part, you didn't really think monsters kissed_ anyway _; there are so many different sizes and body types and head shapes among them that really it seems a little ridiculous; not to mention they have nose nuzzling which fulfills that need anyway even if one of the couple is a human. Hell, against all odds, the two of you are actually_ good _at that._

_It's a little awkward, to be honest. Asriel's muzzle isn't pointed or angular and it doesn't extend too far out, but he still has a big old snootle to try and maneuver your lips against even if you had enough presence of mind to try doing that. It's round and fuzzy and concave, and he can't find an angle that feels entirely comfortable for either of you. You have to be mindful of his fangs, too, and you're seized with the conviction that he can't possible enjoy this. You have to taste of coppery blood and caustic bile and acrid flowers._

_To be honest, as well, you are enjoying yourself. The mist around his face is clearing away, and you can see the love in the starry anise warmth of his eyes as he holds to you. Even if having him holding your wrists is making your nerves stand on end, his hands are as gentle as they've always been, despite the blisters you can barely feel forming under his white fur. If he were not holding them, your hands would probably already be fixed on those soft, long, floppy ears that you've teased and played with and been comforted unfathomably by since the day he saved you. Your eyes lock on the tiny nubs of his horns, finally starting to grow after all he's talked about them since you were recovered enough from falling to talk, and you consider that you might not mind living with this pain long enough to see them grow in. Even your lingering sense of taste works to your advantage; Asriel tastes of the earth in the garden, and his father's tea, and his mother's butterscotch and cinnamon, and something so heartbreakingly sweet that the poetic part of your mind immediately decides that Asriel is what starlight tastes like._

_"Happy birthday, Chara," he murmurs shyly when he finally pulls back._

_You consider this rather unexpected statement while you make the signal with your fingers that he knows means "let me go, what you are doing is upsetting me". When he lets your wrists go, you sign carefully. ~Are you being coy, or is it actually today?~_

_"As of about... one, two minutes ago." He smiles, shyly. "I'm kinda glad I got back when I did. I'd have hated to have to start off your birthday feeding you buttercups. Instead I get to start it with a gift." He holds you close, and you can already feel the tears burning your eyes. "Just for today... let yourself be happy? This is... going to be your last one, after all."_

_A birthday. If you didn't deserve the two before this one, you definitely don't deserve this one. You have spent months tearing the joy out of Toriel and Asgore's lives, and forcing Asriel to be complicit in your evil. He'll have to continue, once you're gone; most likely he will have to carry out the rest of your plan with his own hands. The thought that you will finally do something worthwhile, in dying, something meaningful at last, is little solace to you at this point. To say nothing of the fact that you enjoyed that gift and really, really want to kiss him again even though you know he must hate it. You are, without a doubt, the single worst member of the despicable human species. But..._

_Fuck it. It's your birthday._

_You reach up and pull Asriel close to give it another try._

When Frisk opened their eyes again, at first they could not make out anything. They had to blink several times before the tears that completely filled their view shifted enough to see that they were nestled in Toriel's arms again, their soul glowing gently as they laid against her.

Toriel squeezed Frisk's hand softly as she looked down at them. Frisk wiped their eyes on her fur and nodded, squeezing her hand in return. With a sigh, Toriel closed her eyes. "A few days after that, Chara's body finally gave in, and they died. And then..."

Toriel took in a deep breath. "Then, something I had not expected. And yet again, something I should have foreseen. Asriel... laid claim to Chara's soul."

Frisk caught their breath. "He took their soul?"

Toriel sighed softly. "The combination of a human's soul with a monster's melds determination and magic into a single being of terrible power. Power enough to cross the Barrier without hesitating for a moment. Asriel lifted Chara's corpse into his arms, tears in his eyes, and he pushed past me. Past Asgore, and past the throne. We tried to follow, but without a word, Asriel crossed the Barrier, still bearing Chara with him."

Frisk shivered. "Why... did he take them?"

Toriel shook her head. "Beyond that moment we can only surmise. But I imagine..." She sighed. "As their death approached, Chara spoke of the place they had lived in before they fell into the Underground. There was one thing they remembered fondly about that place: a garden in the midst of town, a wide patch filled with beautiful flowers. They would lay there, at times, and let themself be hidden away from everything and everyone else. The flowers gave shelter, and needed tending and care in return."

"The flowers on Chara's grave?" Frisk whimpered.

Toriel nodded. "Golden flowers are native to the Surface, and to there alone. Chara had missed them terribly, but there was nothing we could do. I am sure Chara asked Asriel to bury them with the flowers they loved. But it was not to be. When Asriel returned along with the last rays of the sunset, he still held Chara's body in his arms."

Frisk shivered. "Why did he come back? What happened?"

Toriel squeezed her arms tightly around Frisk. "The first sign we had of his return was a cry for help. When I reached the throne room, there Asriel was. Still clutching Chara's pale form, and..." She took another deep breath. "Asriel was... injured. Badly. He had been... attacked, while on the surface. With such ferocity that even his and Chara's souls combined could not withstand their malice." Tears ran down her muzzle as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Before I could even try to heal him, before he could speak again, Asriel's form dissolved before my eyes and left nothing of the two children I had loved but a pale, bloodied human form in a cloud of white dust."

Frisk's arm wound around Toriel's shoulder. "You don't have to go on, Mom..."

Toriel laughed bitterly. "You offer to allow me to stop, when you will not yield when you are the one in need? Do you think so little of me as a mother?" She paused. "I... am sorry." Her arms squeezed Frisk even closer. "There is... little more to tell, at any rate."

Frisk shivered. "How... did it happen?"

Toriel shook her head. "That, I do not know. We could not accompany Asriel to the surface, and his death came too soon after his return for us to speak. But... well. I imagine there was another reason he sought the surface."

_We just need six, right? We'll be strong. We'll free everyone. Together._

Frisk nodded slowly. "The Barrier."

"I believe so." Toriel sighed. "Chara wanted so desperately to do something to set everything right. Monsters, not humans, deserved the surface in their eyes. I know they would not hesitate to lay down their life in order to give Asriel the chance to take what he needed and destroy our prison once and for all. And yet... for all the wounds he took, there was no blood on Asriel save for what was left on Chara's body. He did not harm a single human while aboveground."

_Asri, what are you doing? I get it if you don't want to hurt anyone personally, but they want to kill us. I can feel what their attacks are doing to us. I have to fight back, Asri! Why won't you just let me do this for you?_

Frisk tensed. "He... let them kill him?"

Toriel sighed. "He let them strike, at least. Without defending himself or striking in return. Instead, he took Chara with him and left the humans alone. Perhaps he finally understood why Asgore and I no longer seriously considered the breach of the Barrier to be a reasonable solution."

_It's okay, Chara. I'm gonna take you home. I shouldn't leave you here anyway, where the humans want to use you whether you're alive or part of me. We'll go and tell Mom, and we'll try and figure out a way to use our power to save everyone without having to hurt people. I'll prove that there's more choices than just killing before you're killed._

Frisk closed their eyes and wiped furiously at them with their sleeve. "What then?"

Toriel took a long breath. "Asgore was even more distraught than I. He was always... passionate. That day, he addressed our subjects in the blackest rage I have ever seen him succumb to. Humans were, now and forever, our enemies, Asgore declared. We would go to war with them. Every human who came to us as Chara did would have their soul ripped from them, and when we had seven, he would lead us to reclaim the surface. An endless war that would only stop when all humans were lost and only monsters remained."

"That's... not hope." Frisk curled into a ball, staring at their own soul.

Toriel shook her head. "How could it be? We were fools to lay that burden on them, but _Chara_ was our hope. We loved them, dearly, and their death tore the heart out of the Underground. I know Asgore well. He has regretted his declaration of war since the instant that it left his lips. But losing Chara and Asriel in a single day has broken him, and he fears to gamble on uncertain hope when at least he can be certain that the war, false hope that it may be, will give his subjects some semblance of something to believe in."

Frisk nodded glumly. "Is Chara why you planted golden flowers after Peloche fell?"

Toriel paused. "I... did not plant those flowers, my child. When I separated from Asgore, when I divided the Underground forever, I took Chara's body with me. Asgore, torn between respect and sentimentality, had kept them preserved in a coffin near the throne room. I stole them away from him, an act of revenge against a man I now hated bitterly and an act of pathetic self-pity to pretend I could at least give Chara a proper burial. What I had never suspected was that the seeds of their beloved flowers had clung to Chara's sweater ever since that day. When I buried Chara, the seeds clinging to them began to sprout. I like to think, sometimes, that their spirit and determination passed on into the flowers that now root in what little remains of their body and carpet their final resting place."

Frisk reached up to hug Toriel. "Is... Chara why you won't let me go?"

Toriel embraced Frisk in turn. "Perhaps, a little. You remind me at times of Chara. A child neither boy nor girl but something beautiful all their own, with a blazing, beautiful soul, red as the sun, who chose their own name and chose to climb a mountain from which there is no return." She shivered. "Chara went willingly to their own death, my child. I hope you agree it is hard to blame me for being worried that you will one day do the same."

Frisk settled onto their bed again, gently cupping their soul back into their chest. "Mom..."

Toriel smiled weakly. "I love you dearly, my child. But, I am afraid that is all there is to that tale. And considering how you reacted, I think I must insist you sleep now."

Her hands were firm as she bundled Frisk into their blankets, and she smiled as the human settled in with a coo. "Rest well, my child."

"Mom?" They only spoke up when she had already reached the door.

Toriel looked back with a blink. "What is it?"

Frisk lifted their head and smiled shyly. "I didn't come here for the same reason Chara did."

Toriel put a hand to her chest. "What... do you mean? You climbed the mountain, did you not?"

Frisk took a long breath. "The legend I heard was different. 'Travelers on Mount Ebott will disappear.' But... when a magician makes something disappear, it reappears somewhere else, right? So..."

Toriel nodded slowly. "I see..."

Frisk gave Toriel the widest smile she had ever seen on their face. "So... I'm really glad I reappeared with you. I didn't belong there, but..."

Toriel wiped her eyes as she smiled. "I am very happy as well."

Frisk fidgeted. "Mom? Do you... hate Chara, for what they did?"

"Silly child." Toriel laughed brightly and wiped at her eyes again. "I love Chara to this very day. If I were to despise anyone for what happened, it would be me." She sighed. "I failed them. Chara needed me, and I could not help them. If I had been stronger, wiser, more perceptive, I could have protected them. They would not have had to feel they needed to die in pain and self-hatred and imagined obligation. No, I could never hate Chara. Nor could I ever hate you." She shook her head and slipped gently into the hall. "Good night, my dear child."

Frisk nodded, and settled their head back into the pillows. "I love you too, Mom."

 


	14. Determination, Side B ~ The Last Tale Told

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for this chapter: abandonment, diaspora, misgendering, referenced deadnaming, illness, scarring, internalized victim-blaming, struggle with identity, and neglect. The abuse tag is in full force here, and two characters have an open and visual discussion about self-harm.  
> I'm engaging here with a culture I fully admit I don't have much experience with. I've tried to represent them well, but if I've misunderstood something or just plain screwed up, do not hesitate to point it out.
> 
>  
> 
> *That's... a lot of stuff. This isn't really a fun story.  
> *You, um, can skip if you want!  
> *It's... not like it's important.

"Frisk." The voice was tight in their ears. "Are you out of your mind?"

Frisk sat up, peering around the room, but saw nothing. "Chara?"

"I... do not think I should project, tonight." Chara's voice wavered. "Hearing my own story has left my memories of my death fresh in my mind. I... imagine I would appear to you as I was at the end, not as I was when I came here."

"I'm sorry." Frisk shivered. "I didn't think I'd make you remember."

Chara sighed. "You did not. What you saw was already etched into my memory, deeply. And yes, Frisk, I meant to let you finally see Asri's face."

Frisk tugged at their lip. "Can I at least apologize for seeing that last one?"

Chara's laugh was sharp. "Because you saw my first kiss? After all you had seen, I was a little glad you got to see something at least a little sweet. Even if it was poisoned, as is everything to do with me."

Frisk crumpled a little. "Chara... I can't believe how much that hurt..."

Chara's voice broke. "That is what I mean, Frisk. You blurred the line between us. You did not merely see my memories, you experienced them firsthand." They began to waver into existence before them. "I am a horrible person, Frisk. It is one thing for me to go through that. For you to have to feel the pain of what I did to myself..."

Frisk seized Chara's hands before they had even fully appeared. "I had to do this."

When Chara appeared, they were taller than Frisk had seen them. Their eyes were rimmed in red and deep shadows gathered beneath them. Their hands felt strangely wet in a way that made Frisk tremble, and their mouth bubbled and oozed with blood, red against the sickly pale of their face. "Frisk, please..." They made a sign Frisk recognized from the memory, and they quickly let go of Chara's hands.

With a heavy sigh, Chara settled beside them on the bed, staring at their palms. Old white lines of scars ran over their palms, and in between heavy, fat blisters rose. Some had split open, oozing clear and red in equal measure from the sores that formed underneath. Frisk looked down at their own palms with a soft whimper.

"Give me a second, Frisk. I'm... going to try and get myself under control." Chara took a deep breath at their side. "You can... put your arm around me, if you want. I just... ugh, I don't like the idea of you even feeling like you're getting this gross shit on you."

"Asriel didn't mind." Frisk smiled shyly, and squeezed their arm gently around Chara's shoulders. "I'm sorry. That must have been awful for you."

"For _me_?" Chara's eyes were wide when Frisk looked. They were younger now, their hands only scarred and their skin flushing a golden sort of olive. "Frisk, I told you, I already remember everything you saw tonight. I'm far more worried about you." They shivered. "Why, Frisk...?"

Frisk glanced away for a long moment. "I wanted us both to hear the story."

Chara blinked. "That was my story, Frisk. I already know it."

Frisk shook their head. "You needed to hear how Mom saw it. And she needed to be the one to tell you, not me."

"... I don't need to be told to know how badly I fucked everything up, Frisk." Chara's voice cracked; for a moment, they were older again, bone-pale and wracked with poison. "Asri... everyone gave me back my life, and I threw it right back in the garbage. And I got Asri killed too. Everything that happened is because of me, Frisk. Peloche and Kythra and everyone else are dead, and you're going to die too, and Asgore became a murderer, all because of me."

Frisk smiled softly. "I didn't hear anything like that, Chara." They took a breath, slow and deep. "Mom told me a story about the first human child she took care of. They were a child who she loved. A child she wanted to cherish and protect and tend to every single need, and a child she was so proud of. That child lived with her for three years, and she was so happy to know them." They were panting now, but they managed, "Mom said that _she_ failed _you_ , Chara."

Chara was shaking as Frisk squeezed them closer. "But... I..."

Frisk's eyes were firm, and they smiled gently. "Mom _loves_ you, Chara. Despite everything. I wanted you to hear her say that."

Chara could no longer meet Frisk's gaze. "... you idiot. You just... sat there and took it while my worst memories spilled over into your heart, until you couldn't even tell the difference between you and me... just for that?"

Frisk nodded shakily. "I wanted to know, and I wanted you to know."

"Guess I was wrong again." Chara leaned in close. "Just like with Sabail. You hadn't betrayed me for a moment. But Frisk, you're not allowed to take on something like that again. Not for my sake."

After a long moment of silence, Chara wiped their eyes. "Well, now you know, more or less, all that happened."

Frisk nodded slowly. "Asriel stopped you?"

Chara paused. "As it turned out... when a human and a monster share souls, they both have control. I was the one that brought my corpse out to the village, to where the golden flowers grew. When the humans attacked us... over a child they had spent years spitting on the very existence of..." They laughed weakly. "Alive, I was a pariah they wanted to vanish. Dead, I was a useful excuse for them to murder a prince. I wanted to burn every single one of them to ash. I wanted revenge, Frisk. Don't think me so noble that I only wanted to sacrifice myself for those who had let me call them 'family' for a time. I hated and wanted to kill every last one of them." They shook their head. "But... he wouldn't let me. I never got a chance to ask him why, but I have my guesses."

"You wanted both things." Frisk shifted. "He made you reset, didn't he?"

Chara winced. "How do you do that, Frisk...? But yes. He restrained the unholy terror he had foolishly opened his heart to, and dragged me kicking and screaming away from those I would without remorse destroy."

"I think that's why." Frisk looked down. "He was... scared of letting you kill. For either of you."

Chara shook their head. "Whatever his reasons, Asri stopped me. But I fought him so hard that he could only make slow progress homeward. The humans had plenty of opportunity to show him what humans are really like. And then... then it was over. I tried to keep us together, but I could _feel_ Asri shatter around me, and... then I was alone."

Frisk nodded slowly. "I... guess this means you're not telling me a story tonight."

Chara sighed. "As a matter of fact, I have been considering asking you to tell me one, for once." They flashed a sharp grin at the child by their side. "You have tried to learn from the others; should you not mirror Sabail's sense of fairness?"

Frisk paused. "You want to hear my story?"

Chara's smile was tight. "That is fair, is it not? You have heard the whole of my story tonight. You have seen memory after memory of mine during our time together, many of which I had thought lost forever."

Frisk slipped hesitantly out of their blankets. "You're right, that's fair. It's just.."

Chara leaned back as Frisk moved to the foot of the bed, playing idly with the cuffs of their dark brown jeans. "What is the matter, Frisk?"

Frisk lifted the blankets and wrapped them tightly around their shoulders. "There's a lot to say."

Chara thought for a long moment. They settled across the bed from Frisk and raised their hands to flick in patterns Frisk recognized easily. ~I have no objection to doing it this way.~

Frisk lit up, and their own hands darted in fluid, expressive motions. ~Are you sure?~ They paused. ~How do you know sign, anyway?~

Chara nodded. ~You saw how I was when he was sick. My voice locks down completely sometimes when I am... agitated. One of the older monsters taught Asri and I how to sign so I could still talk at times I got that bad.~

Frisk nodded, still beaming. ~I wish I'd known earlier. Tell me if I make a sign you don't recognize though, all right?~ They paused. ~Did... you give Asriel that name sign?~

Chara shrugged. ~He gave me mine, so it only seemed right. It was not as if I would allow anyone else to do something as important as name me.~ They made it again; their hand moved in a gentle circle before their eyes, and then blossomed towards their face like the sign for "sun". ~As for mine, he settled on...~ They moved their hands together, one drawing the other along while the other fanned out behind like streamers in the wind.

~Like 'comet'?~ Frisk asked, making a very similar sign. Their hands moved all the way across their body, while Chara's stopped halfway and pressed tightly to their chest.

~I told him as much as I could learn and remember about stars. I'm sure he thought the idea of sun and comet romantic.~ Chara snorted. ~What about you? What's your name?~

Frisk blushed slightly and drew in their fist, thumb pointing straight out. Chara expected them to raise their other arm as if to block it, but instead Frisk's arm darted around to hug their fist tightly against their chest. ~The boy who taught me how to sign named me. He liked playing around.~

Chara nodded, making the sign a few times to themself. ~Can't spell 'Frisk' without 'risk', I get it. I think I like this kid. Before we start, however, I do have one thing to ask. It is... somewhat of a house rule that originated with my teacher.~

Frisk winked. ~No lying when I sign, right?~

Chara's eyes went wide. "How the hell do you know what the rule is?" they spluttered.

Frisk giggled softly. ~Because the boy who taught me had the same rule. Signing was something special just for us. He always said we shouldn't tarnish our signing with lies the way adults do with words.~ They shrugged. ~So... if I'm going to tell you about me, where do I start...?~

Chara smiled. ~Just with... who you are, I guess. Where do you come from? And... what the hell were you doing thinking you should climb a mountain and disappear instead of just hating whatever unbelievably stupid people failed to appreciate one of the most genuinely good people I've ever met?~

Frisk scratched their head. ~Well, I don't really... come from anywhere in particular. I mean, my people come from the northern parts of India, even if most people think we're Egyptian or something, but that was over a thousand years ago...~

Chara nodded. ~What about you in particular, though?~

Frisk blinked. ~I... don't really know. We never really stayed anywhere for very long, so my early memories are probably from the other side of the continent. Plus, I wasn't really interested. The people I came from define me.~

Chara frowned a little. ~Well... who's 'we', anyway? I mean, you can't be telling me that a single family has been moving every few months to years all over the continent. If nothing else, you're really clearly not the kind of rich that you'd need to be to do that.~

Frisk nodded. ~Not one family. All of us, our whole caravan. There were dozens of families, all traveling together from place to place, led by the baro's family.~ They spelled out 'baro' with their fingers, then made its sign again. Then they flushed. ~I mean, I know most of our people don't really do the caravan thing anymore, but some groups are trying to bring it back. The open borders really help.~

Chara blinked. ~Huh. The union's still together? I kinda figured it'd collapse within a decade or two.~ They paused. ~So... wait. What do you mean by your people? I mean, 'caravan' makes me think of one obvious thing, but that's just crazy.~

Frisk nodded. ~I'd say the name, but most people don't actually know it. They just know the name people came up with around the time they decided to label us all thieves and kidnappers and sinners.~ They paused, and then lit up. ~The movie isn't that good at representing us, but we're Quasimodo's people.~

Chara stared. "No way." They leaned in, peering closely at Frisk. "You're seriously..." They broke off. "Wait, that word's... not what your people are supposed to be called?"

Frisk shook their head. ~We're not Egyptian, and that name was put on us. It's... sort of like our culture's version of a deadname. We call ourselves the 'Romani'.~ They made a sign Chara didn't recognize again, and quickly spelled it out for them.

Chara shook their head and whistled softly. ~Well, that is certainly not what I expected. So you lived in an actual caravan of... Romani families? Including your birth parents and you?~

Frisk nodded. ~It was... pretty much just us, really. Romani stick together, because, well...~ They sighed.

Chara shook their head. ~People are awful?~

Frisk groaned. ~People are usually awful to us in particular. They still write guidebooks telling people to avoid Roma because we're all thieves and con artists. So... we stay together as much as we can.~

Chara nodded. ~So... what's it like, moving around so much?~

Frisk smiled. ~It was... pretty nice. We saw lots of kinds of places and people. Almost everyone I knew came with me whenever we moved. It was sort of like living in a small town that drove somewhere else every so often.~

Chara nodded. ~So... what went wrong?~

~Me.~ Frisk's response was immediate. ~I caused problems for everyone. Especially my birth parents. Eventually they just... couldn't take it anymore.~

Chara crossed their arms for a moment before remembering they couldn't exactly both do that and sign. ~And then that happened?~ They pointed pointedly at Frisk's wrists.

Frisk whimpered slightly, fingers playing hesitantly over the pale, wrinkled skin that cupped the heels of their palms and extended along the underside of each wrist. ~Chara, my birth parents didn't do that to me. They didn't do what yours did.~

Chara sighed. ~Frisk. You know our rule. Are you honestly going to tell me that not one mark on your body was put there by your birth parents?~

Frisk nodded firmly. Chara simply waited. They knew the loophole in the rule too well to fall for it. Finally, Frisk sighed and signed again. ~Not anymore. I let Mom get rid of the one they left.~

Chara nodded slowly. ~Well... all right. So what did you do that was so bad?~

Frisk took a breath. ~I caused a lot of problems for my birth parents. I hurt everyone else, so the baro blamed them for not making me stop.~

Chara raised an eyebrow. ~You? Hurting everyone? Frisk...~

~No, I did.~ Frisk lowered their eyes and made another sign Chara didn't recognize. ~This is 'marime'. It's sort of like Roma code. It tells us what's unclean and what we shouldn't do.~

Chara shrugged languidly. ~I never bought into religious stuff, honestly. You?~

Frisk smiled lightly. ~I don't really follow things that don't make sense to me. Marime was one of those things. So... I'd pet and feed stray cats, and I'd forget to separate my skirts from my other clothes, and when we lived in places with a lot of water I'd play with frogs and come home with them resting in my hair or hiding in my boots...~

Chara blinked. ~Frogs? And anyone who would shun a stray cat is a black mark in my book.~ They sighed. ~Did they at least have some sort of reason?~

Frisk nodded slowly. ~Cats lick their butt, and that's unclean. Because they touch yours, you're supposed to wash panties and stuff like that separately. And frogs are... 'out of nature's balance', which is something I never understood. Sometimes I thought our ancestors just were really afraid of frogs.~ They sighed. ~But, the problem was... marime is important to most Roma. A lot of us have to work in places and with people who don't follow it. So marime is important so they can have a safe space.~

Chara nodded. ~I guess that makes sense. Even when I was less cagey I still couldn't spend all day long with people I didn't know well; I always needed to be able to curl up with Asri or in a pinch settle in with his father.~ They grinned, and made the sign for "flower" with both hands, the pointers meeting in the middle as they moved and both held out as if offering. ~I gave him that one.~

Frisk sighed. ~It never made sense to me. So the other Roma would see a frog in my hair and curse at me. Or throw stones at the cat I was petting. Or find one of my skirts mixed in with their laundry and set to howling. Why couldn't they control me, everyone asked. My birth parents were exemplary in their own cleanliness, so nobody wanted to make them leave the caravan, but some families didn't talk to them much, or at all if they were going to bring me along.~

Chara shook their head. ~Frisk, please tell me they didn't put you through what you've been through just because you were a kid and liked kinda gross stuff. Speaking of which, I thought slime freaked you out.~

Frisk shrugged. ~Snails do. Frogs are fine. It's thinner.~ They winced. ~That was another problem though. I was picky, about clothes and food and blankets and...~ They sighed. ~We couldn't afford it, but I insisted on refusing things anyway.~

Chara grunted. ~Frisk, I'm in your head. I know what stuff like that does to you. That's not being picky, that's not being able to sleep because your bed makes your skin crawl, or not wanting to eat something so actively revolting that it makes you want to throw up.~ They paused. ~Which is, I suddenly realize, ironic of me to be saying tonight.~

Frisk winced. ~No, I mean... we really couldn't afford it.~

Chara sighed. ~Yeah. I understand. I was there your first day or two. But, I can at least promise you that Toriel won't let that go on. After a few years here, I completely forgot what genuine hunger was like. It wasn't until the damn flowers kept me from processing real food that I remembered.~

Frisk sighed again. ~... My gender was going to cause problems down the road too. Family is important to Roma.~

Chara raised an eyebrow. ~Frisk, you were eight. Is that really the point you start worrying about marriage? Plus, who cares if you're nonbinary?~

Frisk shrugged. ~My parents wanted to plan ahead, I guess. The baro was traditional about a lot of things. One boy, one girl. With me being neither...~ They fidgeted. ~They'd say things like, 'just pick one and settle! We don't mind if you're a boy, we'll find you a nice trans girl to start a family with!' I... sort of gave up explaining why that wasn't right either.~

Chara groaned. ~Whatever weird eternal entity oversees the cosmos, I beg of you, sink this moronic gender binary to the deepest abyss.~ They shook their head. ~So, all because of nonsense you never understood and things that are core to who you are? How is that your fault?~

Frisk winced. ~There was one more problem. A big one.~ They paused, and made yet another sign. ~This is 'gadje'. It's how the Romani refer to people who aren't Roma. Those who are not part of our people and have no desire to be.~

Chara raised an eyebrow. ~Where did all these signs come from, anyway? Do your people have their own sign language?~

Frisk giggled softly. ~They're what we agreed on to use. Most of them were made up by my teacher, though.~

Chara blinked. ~Right, who did teach you?~

~Another Roma.~ Frisk smiled. ~He was a year older than when you fell, from another family in the caravan. He was deaf, so his birth parents paid for him to learn sign language, back before we met. When he joined us, he sought me out and asked me to be his interpreter when I could.~

Chara blinked. ~Wait, joined? I thought you said he was Roma.~

Frisk nodded. ~Being Roma is about how you act, too. He lived and traveled with us, he played with the other Roma kids, he was willing to be taught and follow our traditions...~ They giggled hesitantly. ~If I'm Roma, he certainly was.~

Chara shrugged. ~So basically, by Roma standards, you totally count as a monster?~

Frisk tapped their chin. ~I guess? He was pretty popular, you know. Sort of a leader to us.~

~Who's us?~ Chara leaned in closer, propping their chin in their hands.

Frisk smiled. ~Remember how I told Mom I was lucky? Some of the other kids were willing to put up with me being weird and gross and disobedient, and they let me play with them.~ They shook their head. ~He was sort of the leader of our group. He taught all of us how to sign. It was like a secret code we could keep from the adults.~

Chara nodded. ~Certainly never a precaution not worth taking.~

Frisk smiled weakly. ~They're part of the thing I absolutely chose to do wrong, too.~

Chara shook their head. ~I might genuinely like to meet this kid. He basically ran a group of Romani urchins who had their own secret code to plot stuff?~

~That'd be... kinda hard. He...~ Frisk shivered. For a moment, their hands trembled, and then they dropped. "Shelta moved away," they said finally. They made the sign of his name as they spoke it; their hand raised high in front of them and sweeping broadly as if to sign "sky", but with their fist closed and away, instead of open-handed and towards them, and their thumb tucked over their first two fingers. Their eyes lifted to their fist as they signed, and a slight, sweet smile crossed their lips despite their clear distress.

Chara sighed. ~So... what was this thing that you did that was so bad? Or that your friends did that you had to sign so the adults wouldn't find out?~

Frisk kneaded their lip hesitantly between their teeth. ~When I was growing up, my birth parents... most adults in the caravan, the baro especially, would tell me something, every time we went to a new town. 'This place is the same as the last. Do not interact with the gadje. The gadje wish only to scorn and harm us.'~

~As gadje myself, I appreciate the obvious fact that you ignored that.~ Chara grinned lightly.

Frisk winced. ~It's not like they were wrong.~ Their hands shook. ~Most gadje are... really mean to us. They don't really want the Roma around. They still think we're...~ They shook their head.

Chara snorted. ~I read the original Victor Hugo, I know how people think about the Roma.~ They paused. ~Do they seriously publish guidebooks specifically calling out Roma as pickpockets and the like? By the wrong name, even?~

~There's also a lot of laws that gadje made to hurt Roma.~ Frisk whimpered softly. ~Most of them are kind of old, what's left of governments that really hated us, but... not all of them. Remember how I said I'm homeschooled?~

Chara shrugged. ~Still say you got off easy, but...~ They blinked. ~Roma can't enroll in schools? It was not just because of how often you moved?~

Frisk shook their head. ~Even the Romani who don't move have a hard time with schools. When our caravan moved where other Roma lived, lots of them would come stay with us. It was a chance to live with their own people instead of flats full of gadje. Some of them would talk to me about how awful school was, how the teachers wouldn't protect them or even joined in. Most of them had given up trying.~

Chara nodded. ~You ever end up trying?~

Frisk tilted their head. ~When I turned six, we were...~ They paused. ~I forget where, but they told us I would have to go to a special school for Roma children. When we moved the next summer, the Roma who lived in the new country told everyone not to enroll, that the government would put us in a school for special kids and they'd treat all of us like we were retarded.~

Chara's eye twitched. ~You're joking.~

Frisk shook their head. ~I probably belonged in one anyway, but.~

Chara snorted. ~Okay, no. I've seen you in lessons with Toriel. You can handle learning just fine.~ They sighed. ~So, school sucks even harder for Roma, point taken.~

Frisk nodded. ~There were laws meant to stop our caravans too. Sometimes the police would come and tell us to break up our camp and leave.~ They paused. ~Roma don't just travel because it's fun, Chara. I kind of like moving around, but usually we move when the gadje get sick enough of us to start really trying to hurt us.~

Chara sighed. ~Couldn't you stand up for yourselves? Find people who don't hate you, put together a movement?~

Frisk shrugged. ~If someone swings a hammer, you move out of the way.~ They paused. ~Governments are just really big hammers. So we have to move far to get away.~

Chara groaned. ~Unbelievable.~

Frisk stretched for a moment, but then settled the blankets even closer around themself. ~And then... it's been a long time, but none of us ever wanted to go near Germany. Or Italy.~

Chara's eyes bulged. ~Roma too?~

~Roma too.~ Frisk whimpered softly. ~My birth parents weren't wrong.~

Chara sighed. ~Frisk... why would you reach out to people like that? How can you just... forgive?~

Frisk paused. ~I didn't say I forgive them. They didn't think they did anything wrong. I just... don't hate them. People do bad things sometimes, but... it's nice to set aside, sometimes, and try again. Not forgetting, but...~

Chara smiled hesitantly. ~You have an... interesting mindset.~

Frisk thought for a long moment. ~When I was little, I got mad too. I'd yell at the mean gadje and call them horrible. I... wanted to hurt them.~ They giggled nervously. ~But I knew the police would believe them and not me, and I didn't want to go to a gadje prison.~

Chara shrugged. ~Not blaming you. My partner met quite a few people who tried to hurt me. They were generally unpleasant meetings.~ They smiled.

Frisk sighed. ~But... after a while, I stopped wanting that. Wanting to hurt them made me feel sick inside after. So I'd just... smile, and hope, and go on to the next one.~ They nodded. ~And also... once, a gadje girl asked if I'd been stolen. I didn't understand, and she told me, 'My mom says the Roma swindle you out of your silver and steal kids away when they leave town. Did they steal you?' She looked... worried about me.~ They paused. ~I... said my parents had a hard enough time with me without stealing a gadje child they'd have to raise too. And... after a while, I got it.~

Chara raised an eyebrow. ~Got what? That people suck?~

~Most of the gadje hate Roma because their parents taught them to.~ Frisk's eyes were even lower than usual. ~Just like my birth parents tried to teach me to hate them. So I decided I wouldn't listen. And I'd look for gadje who didn't listen either.~

Chara whistled. ~And you call me brave? Frisk, you're wonderful, you know that?~

Frisk smiled shyly. ~I tried to learn from them, too. Some parts of the cultures we lived among were so amazing!~ They plucked at the cloth of their leggings shyly. ~Some gadji girls taught me about these. After that I tried to wear them as much as I could. They're a lot more comfy.~

Chara shrugged. ~What's wrong with that? Besides not wearing the traditional clothing of a gender that you did not belong to in any case?~

Frisk shook their head. ~It wasn't Roma. It wasn't marime. And it was an excuse for the baro.~ They sighed. ~And Shelta came with me sometimes, which meant we all went. That was messy sometimes. We learned pretty quick to never actually bring anything with us so we could prove we hadn't stolen anything.~

Chara sighed. ~Gross.~

Frisk fidgeted. ~And then sometimes we'd all sneak out to the movies. That was fun. Lots of theaters have been showing the good old movies now that they're finally public.~

Chara grinned. ~I suppose even _that_ ancient juggernaut could not live eternally supping on the fat of re-releases. No wonder you knew all those lines.~

Frisk smiled shyly. ~So that's why. I tried to be friendly to the gadje, and to add parts of their culture to ours.~

Chara shrugged. ~It's more than I probably could have done. I still cannot follow why that was so... inappropriate.~

Frisk shook their head. ~I don't know either. When I started talking to gadje more and watching them... I realized that almost everywhere we went, I could see things that looked like things Roma do. I thought that Roma culture must have always learned and changed from the gadje we lived with. But when I tried to do that...~

Chara groaned. ~More excuses for the hardass at the top to give your birth parents trouble.~

~It wasn't just the baro's family, you know.~ Frisk winced. ~I caused problems for my birth parents on my own, too.~ They paused. ~First off, well, you know how I talk. You and Mom understand me, but...~

Chara snorted. ~Not good at picking up on what their own flesh and blood means when they talk, huh? You'd think they'd at least make an effort.~

Frisk's face crumpled. ~What about me? I should've tried being clearer. Talking more. Instead I'd just get mad and shut up.~ They sighed. ~And then, well...~ They ran their fingers sadly over their palm.

Chara sighed. ~What... happened to you, anyway? That must have been a serious injury.~

Frisk sighed right back. ~We had bonfires on some nights. Once, I got... really close, and I reached out...~

Chara's eyes widened. ~So... that's a burn? And you...~

Frisk squeezed their eyes shut and nodded. ~I was... sort of fascinated. I don't think I really understood what was happening. It's... harder for me to feel pain, I think.~ They paused. ~They never let me go near the bonfires after that.~

Chara winced. ~I can't... exactly blame them. That looks... pretty awful.~

Frisk nodded again, miserably. ~It was a lot worse that day.~ They drew in a long breath. ~Bonfires were just the first entry on the list of things Frisk wasn't allowed to be near, though.~

Chara blinked. ~Like what?~

Frisk began to tremble. ~The obvious stuff first. Knives, razors, scissors. Then I tried to get creative, so they put the forks up high. I wasn't allowed anything with a light bulb, or the square batteries, or anything like a thin wire that'd pinch if I wrapped it tight... eventually I wasn't allowed to go for a walk without someone like Shelta to make sure I wouldn't be 'clumsy' even though I wasn't...~

Chara snapped their fingers and leaned close. ~Frisk. Stay in the moment.~

~Don't chase the rabbit?~ They smiled weakly, and circled their chest with a fist. ~Sorry.~

Chara shrugged. ~Hey, I'd be a far worse drift partner.~ They paused. ~I... honestly, I don't know what to say, Frisk. Or how to really... approach talking about it. I definitely don't want to make you feel awful.~

Frisk blinked. ~Why shouldn't I? I was hurting myself, Chara. I burned myself and my parents had to take me to the hospital. They must have been so scared...~

Chara took a long breath. ~Frisk, remember when we first got here?~

~And I fell back into old reactions?~ Frisk wrapped their teeth tightly around their lower lip.

Chara shook their head. ~We undid that, Frisk. You decided to undo it. You were sick to your stomach over it.~

Frisk shivered. ~I... kinda hoped that was the reason Mom tried to fight me. But then we got back here again and...~

Chara sighed. ~What's important is that it's not what you wanted. It's not who you wanted to be. And that isn't what I meant, anyway. I was talking about when we got to Toriel's home for the first time.~

Frisk thought for a moment. Then, in a low, deadpan voice, they murmured, "Where are the knives."

Chara grinned sharply. ~Not too shabby.~ They took a long breath again, and held out their arm, sliding the cuff of their sweater up slowly. "So, about the knives I was half-expecting would be there..."

Frisk's fingers came to a halt barely an inch from Chara's arm. They bit their lip and looked quickly up to them. "S-sorry..."

Chara shook their head. "No... go ahead, Frisk."

Hesitantly, Frisk touched Chara's arm, fingers gently exploring the network of tiny white lines that crossed below the heel of their palm. "Those knives were in a special, warded box," Chara said quietly, their voice and body tense as they let Frisk gently feel over their arm. "If I opened it, Toriel would know immediately."

"So she could stop you?" Frisk's voice was barely audible.

Chara snorted. "Toriel's not shitty like your birth parents. That ward told Toriel that I would need her to come and heal me soon, and clean whichever ones I used so that they would be sterile for the next time."

Frisk's eyes snapped up from Chara's arm to meet theirs. "She... let you?"

Chara winced. "She made it available. In case I needed it. So I could be _safe_. Mind, she _also_ took my partner away, but I could have killed someone with that." Their eyes flicked away for a moment. "I do not blame her in the least for that particular precaution. And Asgore let me use it sometimes in the garden, after I had been there a long while and I was more... stable." They smiled. "You would be surprised how well even an old thing like that can sever tough vines and prune leaves."

Frisk shifted. "She... said you hadn't been using it."

Chara winced. "The reason behind that was perhaps not as happy as she might have thought. I felt... guilty. Knowing that it must have hurt her so deeply to allow me to do that to myself, seeing just how sad she seemed every time she had to heal me... Toriel was good to me, Frisk. I could not stand repaying that goodness by making her see me bleed."

Frisk shivered softly, and slowly they drew back. ~See? And I made my parents see a lot worse.~ Their fingers trembled as they drew first one sleeve, then the other, up to their shoulders.

Chara drew in a sharp breath as they looked. ~At least I had Toriel to tell me that doing such things did not make me bad or wrong. They just punished you, did they not?~

Frisk gave a tight, hesitant smile. ~Not fair to them. Not everyone can raise a broken child.~

Chara slid closer. ~Hey, Frisk?~ They looked almost... pensive, as they looked over the marks that dotted both of Frisk's arms. ~Does it... help?~

Frisk stared. ~I... don't think I saw you right.~

Chara leaned in closer. ~I never... honestly understood this. I... well.~ They slid up their sleeve further to reveal a pair of pink lines slanting across their forearm. ~I tried it once, back on the surface. I was already catching myself staring longingly at the mountain back then, but when I did this...~ They shook their head. ~I just felt worse. I looked at my blood running across the blade of my partner and I felt like utter garbage. In part for getting my partner dirty like that for no reason.~

Frisk shifted. ~But Mom's box...~

Chara shook their head. ~I didn't do that because it helped, Frisk. I felt as if... I had to. As if I would start to scream if I did not, or as if I would start to strike those around me just to prove to myself how detestable I am. Thankfully, I only ever used it a very few times. I never felt better after hurting myself, Frisk.~ Their eyes wavered. ~But... what about you? I do not think you did it to punish yourself.~

Frisk took a long look at their own arms. ~I... well...~

Chara smiled wearily. ~Take your time, Frisk. You can say no.~

Frisk breathed in slowly. ~I can handle pain, but I don't like it. But... it helped, sometimes.~ They paused. ~Sometimes pain was less awful.~

Chara blinked. ~Less awful than your senses getting tripped? Does that... work?~

Frisk nodded slowly. ~Pain makes you focus. When you're hurt, your brain makes that the priority. A lightbulb against my arm was more important than the custard still clinging to my tongue and my throat. A wire cutting into my ankle helped me forget the ribbon around my neck.~

Chara nodded. ~I... had no idea the human brain worked in that fashion. But... you did not do that when you ran into Toriel's wards.~ Their sign for Toriel's name was graceful; hands rising from the waist, fingers wavering like waves of heat, before crossing over their chest in a sign Frisk knew better than almost any other.

Frisk nodded. ~That was too sudden. I couldn't think, I froze... I tried to bite my tongue a little, but all I could think of was my feet.~ They paused. ~It wasn't always for what I felt, though.~

Chara shifted. ~As it was when you tried to use it on our birthday?~

Frisk shivered. ~It's... like grabbing for a branch. Sometimes I can stop myself.~

Chara nodded. ~Something real, in the moment, to focus on. So.~ They smiled wearily. ~What about that sounds broken to you, Frisk? Pain is how you focus, how you cope.~

Frisk stared, and gave a soft, nervous laugh. ~That... isn't exactly normal, Chara.~

"Fuck normalcy." Chara grinned broadly. ~Only two things matter, Frisk. If it helps you, and whether you are doing it safely.~ They paused, reaching out to hesitantly touch an old patch of rough, darkened skin. ~And I would guess that they made certain that you could not. They refused to help you. This... was infected, wasn't it?~

Frisk bit their lip. ~That's what was fair. I was the one who hurt myself.~

Chara shook their head. ~You had no idea how to patch yourself up, did you?~

Frisk smiled shyly. ~Not at first. Shelta helped me sometimes, though, and once he made me show his parents. They... were really mad at my birth parents for some reason. Instead of me.~ They sighed. ~I got better at it eventually. I figured it out.~

Chara's eyes narrowed. ~And then?~

Frisk froze. ~It's just, well.~ They paused. ~They said I couldn't have any more after a while. They said it just encouraged me.~

Chara frowned for a long moment. ~Any more...~ They stopped, and reached down to gently touch the dirty, peeling bandage wound along Frisk's left arm. "Frisk. Did they stop letting you have bandages? Is _that_ why this thing has been used about a dozen times?"

Frisk's face crumpled. ~We didn't... have the money to waste on me needing so many bandages... why should my birth parents have to pay money they couldn't afford just because I was being bad?~

Chara's face split into a long, thin smile. ~They will need far more bandages than that if I ever meet them.~

Frisk shook their head rapidly. ~No. No hurting them. I was the bad one, Chara. I should have just... kept myself from hurting myself.~

Chara's hands moved with a fierce intensity. ~You are not bad, Frisk. You needed help, and they refused it.~ They shivered. ~I might actually hate them more than my own.~

Frisk's eyes went wide. ~Chara, don't be ridiculous. I've seen what they did to you...~

Chara lowered their head, pressing their hand tightly to their chest. "Frisk. I am so, so very sorry that you ever had to see those memories. Let alone have them trouble you at night." They laughed weakly as their fist circled their heart. "You finally get the blankets you need to sleep soundly, and then I go and fill your nights with _that_... how are you not upset with me?"

Frisk smiled hesitantly. ~I didn't sleep that well on the surface either.~ They sighed. ~Besides, that wasn't your fault. Your memories just...~

Chara snorted. ~If you could simply stop hurting yourself, why could I not simply learn to keep my memories contained? Surely I should have been able to keep myself from hurting you, Frisk.~

Frisk shook their head quickly. ~It's not that easy! Not like me teaching myself to stop...~

Chara paused. ~You've been doing it while you were here, at least a little.~

Frisk blanched. ~I... I know. I'm getting spoiled. My bad habits are coming back.~ They trembled. ~But... I taught myself how to stop. How to... think of other things, without hurting myself.~

Chara nodded. ~Toriel was always clear with me. She would take care of me so long as I needed it, but she wanted to help me reach a place where my own self-harm was no longer a part of my life.~ Their eyes narrowed. ~She wanted to help me find that way, with everyone's support. You found a pale imitation because you were forced to, and alone. Those swine would not lift a single finger for you.~ Another pause. ~Those ways you found. Frisk, be honest. Were not some of them just ways to hurt yourself without them realizing?~

Frisk bit their lip, and Chara put their hand gently to the other child's cheek. "Like that," they said softly.

Frisk sighed slowly and drew back a little. ~I tried that, but sometimes I'd mess up and end up bleeding. I had to stop those, too.~

Chara nodded. ~It was not the same, was it?~

Frisk stared at their lap. ~No.~

Chara sighed. ~You can talk to Toriel about this, you know. She probably still has the box somewhere, unless it's in New Home.~

Frisk let out a whimper. ~No! I can't make Mom see me doing that...~

Chara shook their head. ~It'll be fine, Frisk. Toriel will understand, and she'll help you, and she won't say a word about it. You can do it safely. You don't have to ration bandages and worry whether you cleaned whatever random thing you picked up well enough and panic if it looks as if one of your wounds is going to turn infected...~

"No!" Frisk stared. ~I can't... I'm awful, Chara. Why do you want me to make Mom feel even worse?~

~Because that's what a mother does, Frisk.~ Chara's eyes stared straight into Frisk's. ~That is what it means to care for a child. No matter what they need, no matter how you worry, when you care for someone, you make sure that you do everything you can to make them feel happy and safe. That is what Toriel taught me a parent is.~ They sighed. ~I understand. Honestly, I do. I felt sick every time I opened that box and imagined her face when she saw how savagely I'd carved into myself that time. But it was something I needed, and Toriel always made sure I knew that if I had to, she would make sure I did so safely and with the support I needed.~

~I can't, Chara.~ Frisk curled up miserably.

Chara reached out and laid a hand on Frisk's knee. "I understand. Honest." They sighed. "So, that's what happened, is it? And what, in turn, did they do to you?"

~They... took away anything I could use to hurt myself.~ Frisk's hands hesitated.

"And?" Chara's voice was sharp.

Frisk wilted. ~They... stopped letting me do fun things. If I wanted to see Shelta and the others, I had to sneak out.~ They closed their eyes. ~I... wasn't allowed to learn dances anymore, either.~

Chara stared. "You love dancing, Frisk."

~Our dances are traditions. They're for people who actually listen and are good.~ Frisk's hands shifted listlessly. ~Besides, plenty of them are just for the girls, or just for the boys. I'm not a boy or a girl.~

Chara coughed. "Pareil would have loved you. Although it would have been hard to tell because of how much they would have insisted on you standing up for yourself."

Frisk shrugged. ~Roma don't do that, Chara. I don't, either. If someone wants to hurt me, I move out of the way, and move on.~ They finally peeked up over the curve of their knees.

Chara shook their head. ~Even when that someone is your birth parents?~ They leaned in close. ~Frisk, you are the kindest person I know. You cannot let others take advantage of that. If something is important to your well-being, it is okay for you to have it. If there is something you love, you are allowed to reach out for it.~ They shook their head. ~Sometimes I wonder if falling down that damn hole was the best thing to happen to the two of us.~

Frisk smiled weakly. ~It has been, for me. While it lasted.~

Chara raised an eyebrow. ~Frisk... what happened to you? Why did you really climb the mountain?~

Frisk wilted. ~I was bad and difficult for too long. My birth parents... stopped trying.~

~Except for trying to ensure you blamed yourself for what they did.~ Chara's eyes flashed. ~How long did they spend telling you it was your fault that you lacked birthdays and dance and the safety that a Roma couple of all people should understand everyone needs?~

Frisk shivered softly. ~It's fine, Chara. They were right. I didn't help them at all.~ They smiled weakly again. ~It'll happen eventually here, too. Mom's really nice, but she's probably tired of going to so much trouble, and look how I treat her...~

Chara drew in a breath. ~And what happened when they gave up on acting like a family?~

Frisk looked at the ceiling for a long moment. ~Yelling. Reminding me of why I'm just a broken, needy child who nobody should have to put up with having to take care of. Pointing out all the ways that...~ Their hands went still. "Anyway. We went to that town once."

"How is it?" Chara's tone was almost conversational. "Still a tiny little patch of hell with nothing but scorn for anyone from outside the place?"

Frisk took a deep breath and focused on Chara again. ~The flowers are still there.~ They winced. ~The people I met are like the people you met. Most gadje don't throw rocks until a few weeks after we make camp. I don't think I'd ever been to a place where it happened on the first day. Some of them said they should drive us all up the mountain so the whole world could be rid of us.~ They paused. ~After we made camp... Shelta wasn't around anymore, so most of us followed my lead. We spread out to look, but there really weren't many nice gadje there. Just one old lady who took care of the flowers and told us stories about the mountain.~

Chara shrugged. ~Your experience sounds about the same as mine. Minus stabbing and thieving, mind you, but I lacked a caravan.~ They paused. ~There were... one or two families who tried to take me in at first. They soon learned such charity was true folly, and out I would go once more.~

Frisk nodded. ~We... didn't stay long there. We picked a new place and got ready to move on.~

Chara shrugged again. ~I can hardly blame you. Although I hope you took some time to enjoy the flowers. I am... admittedly fond of them.~

Frisk smiled a little. ~I could try and let you see my memory.~

Chara chuckled. ~Perhaps another night. For the time being, you have a story to weave for me.~ Frisk sighed. ~The night after we left that town, we camped at the foot of Mount Ebott. We set up a big bonfire, and my birth parents brought me along. That... should have been a warning. They never let me sit by the fire anymore.~ They hesitated. ~I was hoping they meant it as an apology.~

Chara's eyes glinted. ~They hit you, did they not?~

~Only a few times.~ Frisk's hands were shaking. ~I'd pushed them too far. It...~

Chara made a sharp motion, and Frisk's hands stilled. ~Frisk, if you try to tell me that your birth parents hurting you was your fault, I shall bury you in every memory I have of Asri being kind and warm and snuggly and sweet to me until you quietly expire of a fatal overdose of fluffy goatboy love and affection.~ They flashed a sudden sharp grin.

Frisk giggled shyly. ~You really love him, don't you?~

Chara rolled their eyes. ~How could I not? I almost wish you'd had a chance to meet him. You two would have been insufferably cute together, except that I'd also have been constantly worried that you and your eternal flirting would have stolen him from me.~

Frisk's eyes went wide, and they waved their hands frantically. ~I wouldn't steal your boyfriend from you!~

Chara snickered, and nodded. ~True enough. So, they made a bonfire at the foot of the mountain they'd just heard rumors about in town. Clearly this was the best of plans.~

Frisk sighed. ~When I woke up... I was alone on the slopes of a mountain where people disappear. It was almost noon, too.~

Chara stared. ~They slipped you something?~

Frisk shrugged. ~I'll never know. But I did know something when I woke up and saw nothing but the bonfire ashes. I didn't belong. I'd never belonged.~ They squeezed their eyes shut, shoulders shaking silently. ~I keep saying 'my people', but that's a lie. I'm not Roma. Not really. I've always been gadji, deep down. That's why they left me behind. So... I climbed Mount Ebott. I thought... I hoped... maybe where I reappeared... I mean, I didn't belong with them. I'm not really Roma.~

Chara waited for Frisk to open their eyes again before continuing. ~Maybe. Or perhaps not. What is a Roma, Frisk? What does being Roma mean to you? You have lived among them all your life, surely you would know better than I.~

Frisk blinked. ~Roma are...~ They considered. ~Roma are wanderers driven by distrust on both sides. They hold to each other, not to a country, and they're all family. Roma are all Roma have, so they will band together and treasure every bond they have, and they always do their best to forgive each other, or at least set aside the bad things someone did so they don't have to be alone.~ Their hands moved more quickly, more surely, now. ~Roma are vibrant people who try to be happy. They love dance and beautiful colors, and they learn from everyone around them as they travel. Even when the gadje try to hurt them, the Roma move out of the way and move on to a new place, and they don't throw out the parts of their culture that grew and learned from the gadje there.~ They paused. ~But Roma are also people who need each other, and...~

Chara's smile was broad and warm and toothy. ~Frisk, that's enough. If that is what a Romani is, then I have never before met someone I was so certain was one. Can you not see it yourself? Everything you have just told me is something that is unmistakably part of who you are.~ Their eyes twinkled. ~Or are you going to insist that to be Roma you also have to cling to everything they believe?~

Frisk's eyes widened. ~But... I didn't act like I was a part of them. I made everyone nervous and upset their safe space...~

Chara shrugged. ~And they treated you shamefully. They ignored your needs even when it left your nerves raw and screaming. They forced your self-harm to be unsafe and you to feel shameful for doing it. They even kept you from the dance you so dearly loved. They hurt you, Frisk. They made you see yourself as broken. How is that making you feel safe and as if you belong? The ones who did make you feel that way were Shelta and your friends, right? Do you think any of them would call you gadje? Do you believe any of them would say you did not belong?~

Frisk's lip trembled. ~Can I... really still say I'm Romani?~

Chara smiled even more widely. ~I can hardly claim to be an expert on Roma, but I think I can call myself an expert on Frisks. You might belong more deeply here, with Toriel and everyone else, but that does not make you any less who you are.~ They chuckled. ~You definitely seem like one to me, and I've been taught what Roma are like by a real live Romani child.~

Frisk slowly lowered their head. "Thank you, Chara," they whispered. "I... feel better."

Chara chuckled. "Arms getting tired?"

Frisk nodded weakly. "I'm sorry, Chara." They circled their chest softly. "You've been through so much."

Chara shook their head. "So have you, Frisk. And you took on my story despite that. You saw my memories, you lived them as if you were me, and yet here you are."

When Frisk peeked up, there were tears in their eyes. "I just wish I could help you."

Chara smiled. "You can, Frisk. You already are. Look at how many memories I've started to get back, because of you. You helped Toriel too; just look at how happy the two of you are together. And you are going to help so many others. You're not broken or needy or bad, Frisk. You are so _good_."

Frisk shivered. "Thank you, Chara, but..."

Chara scooted up close and knelt in front of Frisk. "Listen. I'm going to tell you something. And I know you're not going to believe me; I sure as shit never really did even when Asri was the one telling me. But I need you to try anyway. Okay?"

Frisk shifted in a little closer, peeking up out of their blankets. "What is it, Chara?"

Chara breathed in slowly, and then with an effort reached out to take hold of Frisk's shoulders. "You didn't deserve any of that. None of what they did is anyone's fault but their own failings. You deserve so, so much more. You deserve and are welcome to everything Toriel does for you. And I'm just as lucky to have met you as I was to meet Kythra or any of the others." They shook their head, but when their eyes met Frisk's again they were twinkling. "Toriel loves you, Free. She's never going to get tired of taking care of you."

Frisk sighed. "Part of me knows, Chara." They paused, and then suddenly grinned. "Part of me is wondering what you just called me."

Chara paused, made a strangled noise, and slumped beside Frisk, facedown in the blankets. "Anyway." Their voice was muffled. "You can stop fighting Toriel. You really do deserve her as a mom, so... go ahead and stay here with her."

Frisk laid down beside them. "But now I want to go. Mom deserves better too. Besides, staying won't solve the problem with Dad."

Chara lifted their head, cheeks still incandescent red in their olive face. "You are _impossibly_ ambitious, Free."

Frisk giggled. "What's determination for?" Their hands moved slowly but with purpose. ~I won't stop trying until we've found the best ending. For everyone. That's what use your determination is, and mine. That's how you and I can help everyone.~

Chara looked away. "I can't help anyone. This is all you."

Frisk tilted their head. "When I got burned up, whose voice did I hear?" They smiled. "It was a voice I've never heard before."

Chara groaned. "You win. I shall do the miniscule amount within my capacity." They snorted. "Anyway, I... I need some time to process this. What I can do, whether there's really a way to do what you want to..."

Frisk grinned. "What it means that you're calling me 'Free'?"

"It means I'm being an ass." Chara crossed their arms. " _Frisk_ is the name you chose. What kind of jerk wouldn't use your real name?"

Frisk shrugged. "My birth parents?" They smiled. "Or a friend I don't mind letting give me a cute nickname."

Chara winced. "But your name is important to you. Even I don't know the name they tried to make you answer to; you haven't even thought it once in all the time we've been together. And besides..."

Frisk put a finger gently an inch from Chara's lips. "You've only ever nicknamed -him- before, right? You calling me 'Free' makes me happy, Chara."

Chara's cheeks blazed again. "That is... also something I need time to process. How I feel, and..."

Frisk nodded. "No more teasing about my nickname for a while?"

Chara laughed quietly. "Just don't give me your brand of sass if I slip and call you it? I might at least _try_ to drop it for now."

Frisk nodded again, and let themself fall back. "That's fine. I'll go to sleep so you can think things over." They paused as they bundled the covers up over themself. "But... just one more time?"

Chara peeked over the edge of the blankets. "Oh, very well. If one must." Their red eyes twinkled. "Sleep well, Free."

With a last sparkle of their sleepy brown eyes, Frisk snuggled down and slept.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story wouldn't have been complete without Chara... but it also wouldn't have been without Frisk. It's strange, how much these two have grown even before I got here, and there's still hints of more to go.  
> Chara's story is, admittedly, in many places familiar ground. A survivor who climbed Mt. Ebott for a "not very happy reason", who found life and love with the Dreemurrs and became very deeply entwined with Asriel, and finally took their own life both for revenge and to become "hope"... these are things that the fandom knows well. The trick was in portraying. If it's not already clear from how Chara refers to it, the moments I invoke 2nd POV are Frisk connecting so strongly with the memory involved or Chara's emotions bleeding over so powerfully that they fully dissociate and experience it as if it were happening in the present, to them.  
> I've tried to put my own touches on Chara, of course: their singing, their birth country and language, the time they spent on their own after their abandonment...  
> But then... then there's Frisk. The more I wrote this chapter (and this one has absolutely been the hardest to write), the more I started to realize just how much unknown ground there is. We get hints that Frisk hasn't had the nicest of lives, and there are essays out there discussing how the interface hints at certain aspects of Frisk's outlook, but we so rarely see Frisk shine through. In a genocide run, Frisk never puts up a protest, they just... leave. The items, the monsters, the save points, almost all of these things we see through the lens of Chara's narration. I've seen the theory put forth that the ACT options come from Frisk, but even then there's only glimpses here and there.  
> Frisk as they appear here had certain aspects bolted down from the start. The quiche makes me think that _both_ children may have been abandoned, making Chara's comments less sniping at Frisk or snarking about themself and more a morbid shared in-joke. I wove Frisk as a friendly and caring but very neurodivergent child whose birth parents did not understand them and stopped being willing to support their needs. Over the years, their situation developed from emotional abuse to neglect and refusal to accept their identity, with brief physical abuse before being abandoned. Their self-blame stems from their belief that if they had "accommodated" their parents' needs, they would not have put so much stress on them; in their eyes, their birth parents were just simply not able to take care of them, and they did nothing to ease that burden.  
>  Then, around the time I was finishing Rhein and starting Kythra, the idea occurred to me to have Frisk be one of the Roma. At first, it was an idle idea I knew I couldn't just use on a whim. But as I learned more, I realized just how much a Romani background would inform the personality I already had in mind for Frisk, and establish new facets of their identity. Like the late-game addition of anxiety to Sabail's makeup, the Roma heritage now feels like an irreplaceable part of this Frisk. But it's also made writing this tough, since I wanted to be sure I don't mess up and write an upsetting caricature instead of something genuine.  
> The other sticking point was, well, the subject of Chara and Frisk's discussion. Self-harm is a subject I've always avoided thinking about, because, well, I honestly don't like thinking about Frisk or Chara doing that kind of thing to themself. Plus, I haven't engaged in even thinking that way since literally half my life ago, and that was a very different train. Even after deciding to incorporate self-harm into Frisk's makeup, Chara wasn't going to until I thought about a possible reason behind "*Where are the knives." and wrote the line about the little box Toriel made for them. Her initial reaction might have been to close off all dangerous things, but Toriel took care of Chara for three years and she would have made that available if they needed it. And, for a very few brief moments, they did.  
> For Chara, the reasoning was simple to come up with. They despised themself and feared their presence would harm their family, feeling compelled to lash out at the only target they could safely hurt. For Frisk, however, I wanted to craft something genuine that someone might honestly be able to relate to or at least understand. I hope I've managed to do that here.  
> Also, more signing! This is intended to mesh canon with Humerus Discourse, so Chara was taught by Aster here, but I'm trying a more creative (and symbolic) style with the name signs as opposed to the hybrid signs I used back then, encouraged by some of the signs I've seen in other works since.  
> The next chapter will be the last one. I'm not sure yet when it will be ready; I have a good start but I'm unsure of a few points and I'm waffling on where to actually end it. Still, the stories are all told. Now is the time to act.


	15. Rainbow's End ~ Beyond Await The Endless Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light on warnings this time; warnings for brief references to abandonment and past suicidal ideation. Frisk is still trying to blame themself for stuff even if Chara is not keen on letting them, while Chara still sort of has that whole crippling guilt thing going on. Also, the codependency stew gets another stir.

When Frisk opened their eyes the next morning, they broke into a broad smile. "Thank you, Chara."

Chara was already visible when Frisk looked to the side. "I thought that, perhaps, I could take a more active approach than simply wishing you a good night."

Frisk giggled. "He was... really sweet to you."

Chara chuckled. "I love him. He's the reason I stopped thinking I'm incapable of love."

Frisk nodded. "And Dad... is that really what he was like?"

Chara shook their head. "Hard to believe, isn't it? The Asgore I knew was the sweetest, most harmless pushover of a man I had ever known. It took me so long to be able to even think of him as father, compared to... what I had before."

Frisk beamed. "And Mom... wow... she's so good at taking care of people..."

Chara scratched their cheek. "Makes it almost hilarious that I was ever scared of her, huh?" They sighed. "She was right, last night. She could see right through me, and it terrified me. I was sure she would use it all against me. Instead... she made me that little box, and promised me I would never, ever be punished or scolded for using it."

Frisk nodded slowly. "I love her too."

"So then..." Chara shook their head. "Actually, I think I'll save that question for later." They smiled and reached out to touch Frisk's hair. "Is today the day?"

Frisk nodded and sat up. "Yeah. I just..."

Chara nodded back. "I know. You wouldn't feel right leaving without filling in the gaps of what I'd told you already. Or making sure I knew that Toriel, somehow, impossibly, does not hate me for what I did." They paused. "Or ensuring that your mother and teacher has enough support while you're... _absent_. Thankfully, I am sure he will be nothing short of... _pun_ ctual."

Frisk smirked. "You need better material." As they slipped from bed and began considering what to pack, they added, "Thanks for sharing so many, Chara."

Chara beamed. "You're in part the reason I had them. I only had to strain to call on what I could remember, and your own mind reached out to help me pull out the rest."

"Or... maybe you're not scared anymore?" Frisk seemed pensive.

Chara paused. "... I will not rule that out." They paused again. "And take the ribbon. I know you want to travel light, but you should have at least one present that isn't Asri's hand-me-down."

Frisk glanced at the scarf in their hands, and nodded.

In the hall, Toriel took one look at what Frisk was carrying and lowered her head. Frisk swallowed. "Mom?" they asked softly. "Please... tell me how to exit the Ruins."

Toriel fixed them with a steady gaze. "Beyond the tunnel downstairs lies the exit from the Ruins. A one-way door I have warded against Asgore." She sighed slowly. "I am going to destroy it."

Frisk shook their head. "But then how will your friend tell you jokes?"

Toriel glanced to the side. "I truly cannot sway you, can I?" She turned, striding down the hall.

Frisk turned to the mirror and leaned their forehead against it.

"It's you!" Chara's voice was soft, even for them, in Frisk's mind. "Go ahead and cry, Frisk."

"Crying is for showing you care." Frisk's voice was barely audible. They reached out, winding their fingers around a hand they knew would be there even if its owner was invisible.

Chara shook their head as they appeared beside Frisk in the mirror. "Another notion I will have to disabuse you of. But that can wait. Seeing you like this, I feel I should finally ask you, why are your eyelids still heavy even when you aren't tired? You slept so soundly last night."

Frisk fidgeted. "Back when I wasn't sleeping well, Shelta and the others said I looked cute like that. Some of the nice gadje did too." They smiled. "So..."

Chara rolled their eyes. "Trust you to make something beautiful and adorable out of your deplorable situation." They smiled quietly. "But, I wanted to ask you. What is the plan, from here on out? You are... well aware of my intentions."

Frisk shook their head. "I don't want to hurt them, Chara."

Chara sighed. "I still think you're being a perfect imbecile about that, but I am willing to let you try." They smiled hesitantly. "Without interfering, I mean. But, Frisk, that isn't what I meant. What do you hope to accomplish? You said last night you want to leave the Ruins for your own reasons."

Frisk nodded. "I can't help anyone if I stay here." They paused, and grinned. "And I can't meet anyone, either."

Chara smirked. "In other words, your goal is to flirt with the entire Underground. Admirable, I suppose. But what of Asgore? What about the other humans? And... there is Flowey to consider."

Frisk nodded. "I don't want Dad to fall down either." They sighed. "And... maybe I can talk to the others?"

Chara shrugged. "They would be more than happy to meet you, I imagine. If there is still a way to communicate. But I am not sure you could break the Barrier, even with them, unless you give yourself to someone. And possibly the others as well." They paused. "And I will, frankly, be very cross if you try and donate your soul to Asgore. In fact, I think I will actively prevent you from doing that."

"I didn't come here to die, Chara." Frisk nodded.

Chara sighed. "Frisk..."

Frisk nodded. "I mean it."

"You know damned well you could have." Chara leaned closer.

Frisk shrugged. "But I didn't." They sighed. "I wasn't supposed to disappear. I... hoped so."

Chara closed their eyes. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you didn't die. I've been... thinking about what I feel, while I was seeding your dreams." They paused. "Instead, I remembered how I felt about him. That... story I've told you about before. There's... a point where Mikage is talking about how she feels about Yuichi, the man who took her in. They're close, she says. 'We're closer than anyone else in the world.' And then she says, 'Although we have always acted like brother and sister, aren't we really man and woman in the primordial sense, and don't we think of each other that way?'"

Frisk paused for a long moment. One eyebrow vanished into their hair. "I don't think of you as a boy, Chara."

Chara bent slightly with laughter. "Nor do I think of you as a girl." They shook their head. "But the intensity... the blurring of the line between family and something else, something more... I always felt that summed up how I felt about Asri."

Frisk nodded. "What about me?"

Chara's smile was bright. "I... feel similarly about you, I think. You aren't like Asri, and the way I feel about you is different. But that intensity, the way I cannot explain just what you are to me even now... in that sense, it's the same."

Frisk smiled shyly back. "I'm glad." They paused. "Because... there's a favor I wanted to ask."

Chara nodded slowly. "We should hurry and catch Toriel, but..."

Frisk squeezed hesitantly around Chara's hand. "Please stay with me."

Chara paused. "I already said I would help you, Frisk. Whatever your goal is, if I can figure out a way to aid you to it, I will carry it out."

Frisk shivered. "I know. But... even after it's all over." They slowly drew a breath. "I'd be lonely without you. And you would be too. So please stay with me, Chara, even after we're finished. I won't tell Mom or anyone else you're here until you say it's okay, I promise. If... if you do leave... Promise me you'll only leave if you've gotten back the first thing you lost that day."

Chara's eyes went wide. "Frisk... when you said you wanted to help me..." They lowered their head, wiping furiously at their eyes. "You idiot. I'll just... end up throwing it away again."

"Not this time." Frisk smiled. "I won't let you. I love you."

Chara's cheeks went scarlet. "Free..." They sighed softly. "It isn't so simple, you realize. I died a very long time ago. My body is either gone entirely or a few tatters of flower food. My soul is... let's face it, my soul has been gone just as long. Asriel absorbed it into his own when I killed myself, and then his soul shattered. Mine... in all likelihood shattered with it."

Frisk tilted their head. "But... how would you be here?"

"Same way Flowey is, I'd wager." Chara smiled wearily. "Even for you, I think what you desire is impossible. But... if it is, then I suppose you'll just have to put up with me as a companion until your own life comes to an end. If that is what you want me to promise."

Frisk shrugged. "I could always just charm Ereshkigal. It wouldn't be the first time."

Chara stared for a long moment. "Eresh... Frisk, do you even believe in..." Their eyes widened. "Wait. Are you... talking about Asushunamir?"

Frisk lit up. "I was getting worried you didn't know the story!"

Chara clasped their hands. "Frisk, I 'borrowed' about three-quarters of the local library at one point or another, of course I know. How on earth do _you_ know that story?"

Frisk beamed. "It was a few days after I came out. Shelta knew people were being mean, so he told me it."

Chara stared. "Frisk, if you tell me much more about this boy, I may become smitten."

Frisk giggled. "You'd have to get in line. And Asriel would be mad."

Chara smirked. "And you'd be jealous. Admit it."

Frisk blushed hotly across the dark olive of their cheeks. "M-maybe?" They sighed. "I mean, I'm a little young to know."

Chara's grin widened. "So, even the mighty flirt elemental has a weak point. But, with that settled..." They pointed. "You may wish to go before Toriel decides you are going to allow it."

Frisk turned and set off at a run down the corridor. "You can call her Mom, you know..."

Chara shook their head as they glided along behind Frisk. "I cannot bring myself to. Not after what I cost her."

Frisk sighed. "Do you... want to show yourself? This is your last chance." They smiled. "I bet Mom would be really happy to know you're helping me."

Chara winced. "The last child she knew I was accompanying died. Painfully. In front of her, no less." They sighed. "I'm sick of hurting her, Frisk. I don't belong in her life anymore. I don't... belong anywhere, to be frank."

Frisk put a hand to their chest. "You can belong here now."

Chara's breath caught. "... thank you."

Just before the bend in the corridor, Frisk slid to a halt. It was a moment before Chara noticed them shaking. They started when they felt Chara's hand touch their shoulder. "I'm... scared," they admitted, eyes downcast.

Chara nodded slowly. "It... is a lot to take in, now that we're here. But what I said last night stands. If you don't want to leave, then don't. Toriel will take care of you as long as you live. And I'll stay just as long." They sighed. "Toriel... won't abandon you."

Frisk shook their head. "Something has to change," they said quietly. "Why am I so scared? I jumped into the Ruins... after that..."

Chara shook their head. "You gambled back then with your life in the balance. But now..." They smiled. "I guess one of us is getting through to you, because this time you actually value what you're putting up. You fear losing it, as you should."

Frisk closed their eyes. "I just... I can't focus. I... don't want Mom to end up killing me again."

Chara moved carefully in front of Frisk. "Focus, huh. Well..." They smiled hesitantly. "I might have an idea. I'm not sure if it will work, but... go ahead and challenge her. I'll be with you." They sighed. "I... do not relish the thought of seeing Toriel attacking you, either."

Frisk nodded. "It's okay. You don't have to watch. I'll face Mom. But... if you can... Please, I need your help, Chara."

Chara turned and walked around the bend of the corridor. After a moment, Frisk followed.

Toriel stood there, facing them, her eyes steady as they fixed on the human child in front of her. "I had hoped it would not come to this, my child. I told you of the children who came before so you would understand. It does not matter who you are, or what your plan is. Either you or Asgore will die, should you pass this door. And I do not wish for either of those things."

Frisk shook their head. "I didn't come here to die, Mom. And I won't accept an ending where Dad dies either."

Toriel took a step back. "You are... truly a strange child." She shook her head. "I will never love Asgore again. I hate him with all my soul. Surely you know that."

Frisk smiled gently. "He isn't a bad person. Surely you know that." They shook their head. "Even if you two never get back together... I want to know him too."

Toriel raised her hands. Bright orange streams of magic began to gather in her palms. "I am tired of sitting idly by and watching child after child leave, only to die at Asgore's hands. You are kind and beautiful and loving, my child. He will kill you. I will prove that to you as many times as I must, no matter how it goes against my heart to do it."

Frisk stood firm. "I won't kill _or_ be killed, Mom."

Toriel closed her eyes for a long moment. "If you would pass, then prove to me you are strong enough to survive." When she opened her eyes again, flames billowed from her claws.

As Frisk moved to edge between the twisting helix of fire, Chara's voice sounded for the first time since they had reached Toriel. What Frisk heard, though, was not speech. Speech did not flow from word to word without pause, nor did it rise and fall in pitch. Speech did not have the power to calm Frisk's racing thoughts like what Chara's voice did now.

With a smile, Frisk drew out their ribbon. As Chara sang, their back to the battle behind them, Frisk leapt into a gentle dance.

"Have you learned nothing from our previous combats?" Toriel's voice was flat. "Emulating the children who came before will not save you."

Frisk knew that. They'd already tried. "That's why I lost before." For a moment, they closed their eyes. In their mind, they remembered the drawings they had made, all the times they had seen Toriel's fire. Their steps moved surely, guided in a pattern of their own making by the rules that Toriel's magic set down. Their ribbon danced out, gently tapping Toriel's muzzle here, grazing against the flames there.

Toriel stared. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "Attack or run away!"

Frisk shook their head. The next series of steps brought them close enough to touch her. Inches from the flames, they stared into her face, and for a moment the warm cinnamon of her eyes darted away. "What are you proving this way?" she forced out.

As her hand swept forward, flames trailing from the claws, Frisk danced lightly back, weaving in between the fire that raced forth and reflected back to strike at them. As the flames died, their ribbon danced out to tickle at Toriel's cheek gently.

Toriel stared at Frisk, trembling. "Fight me or leave!" she demanded. Her breath hitched even as she conjured flames again, a pair of sweeping waves that swung back and forth. Frisk tensed, their steps quick and almost desperate as they slipped through tiny corridors among roiling flame.

Chara's voice swelled. Frisk pressed their free hand to their heart, and their steps grew just a little more sure. Their sleepy eyes fixed gently on Toriel's, and again hers darted away. "Stop it..." she whispered. The next sweep of her palm was half-hearted, but the flames burned just as brightly as Frisk and their ribbon twirled in among them.

Carefully, Frisk slid around to Toriel's far side, their eyes searching for hers. Once more, cinnamon fled from loam. "Stop looking at me that way!" Toriel protested, her voice cracking as she stepped back and let loose another crackling helix of magic.

Frisk's ribbon danced in their hands as they moved effortlessly around Toriel. Again and again, the pink cloth fluttered, dragging gently along her claws, her waist, her muzzle. No matter how many new attacks Toriel conjured, Frisk kept dancing. Toriel, for her own part, was silent.

At last, flames roiled up in a great wall before Frisk, more intense and beautiful than any before. But as the flames approached the child, they parted, darting away as if afraid to even risk touching them. Frisk glanced back just in time to see Chara turn around at last and let their song fall quiet.

"... I guess you really can show mercy without fighting or running away." Their smile was as weary as their voice, but genuine.

Frisk turned back, slowly walking towards Toriel as the flames billowed. Behind the wall of light and heat, her voice spoke hesitantly. "I know you want to go home, but... please, go upstairs now."

Frisk's steps were firm. Toriel's flames drew back further from their path. "I promise I will take good care of you here. I know we do not have much, but... we can have a good life here."

"You really can, Frisk." Chara's voice was husky and out of breath. "It's okay to be selfish. Go ahead. Don't... make the same stupid mistake I did."

"I won't," Frisk whispered, their words vanishing into the crackle of flame.

Toriel was almost visible now through the thinning flames. "Why are you making this so difficult?" she pleaded, tears visible in her eyes.

Frisk's own eyes were already tearing up to match. Chara shook their head. "It's Frisk. Duh." They wiped quietly at their own eyes as the last of the wall parted, leaving Toriel and Frisk facing each other.

"Please, go upstairs." Toriel's voice broke.

Frisk shook their head slowly. They tucked their ribbon away and stood before her, waiting.

At long last, Toriel slowly knelt. And laughed. "Ha ha..." She closed her eyes. "Pathetic, am I not? I cannot save even a single child."

"... is that what you think, Mom?" Toriel's eyes snapped open to a messy mop of mud-brown hair. Frisk's arms tightened around her neck as they cried into her fur. "You haven't failed anyone. You're a wonderful mom."

Toriel tensed. Hesitantly, they embraced Frisk. "Every single child I have ever tried to raise has left me and died. How can I not consider myself a laughable failure?"

Frisk shook their head. "Every single one of us chose to leave, Mom. For our own reasons. Even Peloche chose to talk to him. If I'm not to blame for your actions, you can't be blamed for ours."

Toriel trembled. "And what of Chara? Their and Asriel's deaths are on my conscience, and that weight can never be taken away."

Frisk shifted back enough to stare into Toriel's eyes. "You gave Chara three years. Three years surrounded by people who cared about them. You helped them. You loved them. How is that failure?"

Toriel's eyes wavered. "I have failed you, at least. I have treated you as shamefully as those who tormented my poor Chara."

"Not yet." Frisk nestled their face against Toriel's. "I love you, Mom. I forgive you."

Toriel smiled slowly. "You are far better to me than I deserve."

Frisk giggled. "Well, I learned from my Mom." They pressed their hand gently over her muzzle. "But you have to try too."

Toriel shook her head. "I do not think I will be able to do such a thing any time in the near future." She sighed. "I do not blame you for wishing to return home."

"... if I wanted to go home, I wouldn't be leaving." Frisk's voice cracked. "My birth parents..."

Toriel tensed. "You do not have to..."

Frisk shook their head quickly. "They left me behind. They didn't want me. I don't blame them, but they were clear. I don't belong there."

Toriel's muscles were steel beneath her fur as she held Frisk. "Despicable," she breathed softly. "I will never understand the capacity of some humans to bring harm. Even to children like you and Chara. Please, my child. Stay here with me. This will always be your home, if you wish it."

Frisk nodded. "I do. But..." They shook their head. "I want something better for you. For Dad, too. I know you hate him, but he's hurting. I want to help you both."

Toriel drew in a slow breath. "... I understand. If I trapped us here, you would only be unhappy. The Ruins are so very small, as you know now that you have gotten used to them. It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this." She shook her head slowly. "You would feel as if you could not help anyone, would you not? And that would crush you; I know that far too well." She laughed weakly. "It would not be the first time I saw such a sentiment in my children."

Frisk shifted. "I want to do this."

Toriel winced. "Will you promise me something? I beg of you, do not let Asgore have your soul. No matter what. What he intends cannot possibly be hope. Even if he succeeds, they will fall down. All of them." She shivered. "But please... do not take Asgore's either. No matter how I hate him, I cannot bring myself to desire his death."

Frisk nodded again. "I promise, Mom. I want to come home."

"I understand." Toriel rose for a moment. "Then... my expectations... my loneliness... my fear..." She smiled slowly. "For you, Frisk, I will put them aside."

Frisk held up their arms, and Toriel immediately bent again to embrace them again. "Do I... have to stop calling you Mom?"

Toriel broke into a gentle laugh. "Of course not, my dear. You are always my child." She sighed. "Understand this, however. I must ask that when you leave, you not return. Not, at least, until all is settled." She trembled. "If you still wish to leave the Ruins, knowing that, then... I will not stop you."

Frisk nestled against her. "Will... you be all right?"

"I swear," Toriel whispered. "If you are able to reach a resolution and return here, I will be waiting. I... confess I may not be able to bring myself to answer, should you call, but... I will not stop thinking of you, Frisk." She laughed softly again. "Perhaps that hope of yours is infectious. Faith has departed me, but seeing you so determined... seeing just how strong you truly are... I think I can bring myself to let you have faith in yourself."

Frisk shifted. "You could come with me. With your help, I'd definitely do it."

Toriel sighed. "I do not think I can bring myself to do that." She glanced away. "There are... many reasons. Sound, logical reasons, such as the fact that the return of the queen, accompanied by a human child, would cause the very strife I separated from Asgore to avoid. Or that in the end, I do not wish to once again see him take the life of one of my children." She shivered. "I quail, as well, to see what he has done with them. And I do truly not trust myself not to harm Asgore, should you and he come to blows in the end." She closed her eyes and gave a hollow laugh. "In truth? All these are simply reasons I have crafted after the fact. I am afraid, my child. To my shame, I am afraid to tread where you and six other humans have tread before you. I can see no resolution to this. But I can see that you do."

Her next laugh was warm and genuine. "You are, in the end, a very different sort of child from them. But the look in your eyes... perhaps it is not the same sort, but you have the same hope in your eyes that I saw in Chara's."

Frisk smiled shyly. "I have hope for you too, Mom."

Toriel gently rose and moved past Frisk. "I love you dearly, my child. Please..." She turned, beaming. "Come back to me unharmed, will you not?"

Frisk nodded quickly. "Is it... really okay?" They fidgeted. "I'm... not really an easy child to raise..."

Toriel laughed brightly. "Do you truly believe that bothers me? I have cherished our time together. I fear to risk it ending, but I will never cast you out of your home. Did I not tell you? I love you, Frisk."

Frisk lowered their head. "Mom..." The breath they drew in was so deep, Toriel could see their chest rise beneath their sweater. "You're... really wonderful, you know that? Peloche had somewhere to rest and wait without worrying they'd waited too long. Ypres had a chance to discover herself and to learn how to show kindness to everyone. Rhein needed a mother again more than anything, and to see what being a hero is. Kythra learned so much from you, and they kept trying until the end to find a way to help you. With you, Pareil could be loved for who they were, instead of who the world wanted them to be. And Sabail... had a chance to find out just what he could do, and what justice meant to him. All of them... love you so much..." They were panting now, holding a hand to their chest. "And Chara and me... you took us in. You gave us someone to trust. Neither of us thought we should belong anywhere. But you gave us a home and let us belong there. You never failed anyone." Their eyes were bright. "Chara and I... we both love you too..."

Toriel dabbed at her eyes. "Oh, Frisk." She took a long, shaking breath. "I have never forgotten that. But... it is good to be reminded, sometimes. Thank you, so very much. You are just as wonderful, I hope you realize."

Frisk smiled. "I'm trying to start believing that." Their voice rasped and petered out. They paused, and their hands darted quickly. ~I'm okay. I just... haven't talked that much in a long time.~

Toriel smiled. "Then I shall not require you to speak any longer." She lowered her head. "You are always my dear child. Goodbye, Frisk."

Frisk nodded. ~I'll see you again as soon as I can, Mom.~

"At which time..." Chara sighed. "I suppose Toriel has a right to know that she is playing host to more than just you."

Frisk smiled. "You... could take care of that still..."

Chara thought for a long moment. Then, they smiled so brightly Frisk could feel it. "I was going to say something like, 'let's not burden her with a hope that may never come'. But you... Free, maybe you were the hope everyone was waiting for."

As Chara took control, Frisk giggled softly. "You're still their hope, Chara. But I'll help."

"Toriel." She gave a start at the sudden words, and turned back with a blink. ~There is... that is to say, before we part there is one last thing I think should be addressed.~

Toriel paused. "Are you... all right, my child?"

The human winced ever so slightly at the phrase. ~This is... difficult for me.~ They drew a long breath. ~You deserve to know something, Toriel.~

Toriel's breath hitched. "How... did you come to learn my name sign, my child?"

~Frisk knows because I taught them.~ The human drew in another long breath. ~In truth, you have been taking care of two people, not simply one. You have extended to Frisk a place to live and belong, but it is no longer acceptable for me to remain unless you knowingly extend that to me as well.~

Toriel paused. Her eyes watered. "And... what would be the name of this second person I would be opening my home to?"

The human paused a moment. ~Toriel, you know my name already, do you not?~

"Chara..." Toriel's eyes squeezed shut, and she made their name sign even as she spoke it. "Is it... really you, my child?"

Chara's breath caught. "Yes. It's me, Chara."

Toriel forced herself to look again, meeting the human's bright red eyes at last. "How... is this possible?"

Chara paused. ~I am not... entirely sure. However, despite my death I continue to exist. That, I suppose, is determination. As for how we can speak, Frisk gave me permission to speak through them, temporarily.~

Toriel nodded. "How long... have you been with them?"

Chara paused. ~Since the beginning. As I have with the others, save Peloche. Her I only spoke to after she parted with you. I can only... hitch a ride, as it were, if a source of determination nears my...~ They stilled their hands for a moment. ~I must echo Frisk's sentiment. I saw how you raised those who came after me. You are, and always have been, everything a mother should be.~

Toriel shook her head. "I see. Then I must apologize, Chara." She smiled. "It is very rude to speak of someone when they are listening, after all."

Chara let out a gentle laugh. ~The story you told Frisk was exactly what I needed to hear. There is nothing to apologize for.~ They shook their head. ~But, there you have it. You deserve to know who, exactly, you are inviting to stay in your life.~

Toriel sighed. "Chara. I realize what happened must weigh terribly on you. There was a time I would have been terribly angry, had the consequences for you and Asriel both not been so severe. But I will not hate you for your mistakes. And I will not blame you for what happened to any of my children." She broke into a warm smile. "I already invited you to be a part of my life many, many years ago, my dear child. That will not change."

Chara trembled. Their hands were clumsy as they signed. ~I will help Frisk as best I can.~

Toriel chuckled. "Then I truly have nothing to fear. I look forward to when I see you both again." She drew closer. "Although... I have, technically speaking, only hugged Frisk goodbye."

Chara tensed for a long moment. "I... suppose." They closed their eyes. "Please understand, any hesitance to call you 'mother' is a reflection only on myself. The things I have done to you... that which I considered doing, when you first raised your magic against Frisk..."

Toriel shook her head. "I fully understand any anger you hold against me," she said softly.

"... even if I would have acted on it, if not for Frisk?" Chara stared fixedly far to the left.

Toriel shook her head. "I love you, Chara. Always. If your guilt is too strong, I will understand, no matter how long it takes." She smiled. "Even if you cannot bring yourself to say the words, even if you are convinced you do not deserve to think of me that way, I am always your mother."

She opened her arms, and this time Chara let themself fall into them, crying softly against her shoulder. "I do love you." Their whisper was fierce. "And I am so, so sorry for everything. I shattered apart the family that opened their arms to me. I extinguished everyone's hope with my own hands. I caused the death of the person I love most in the world."

Toriel wound her arms gently around them. "Your father's choices are his own, Chara. As were Asriel's, and as are mine. Had I not failed to help you..." She sighed. "Your mistakes are your own as well, Chara. But I will never hate you for them. No matter in what form, you are always welcome."

Chara laughed weakly. "Just don't bug Frisk to let me talk too often. I realize that for whatever absurd reason you miss me, but... I've been gone for a long time. This is Frisk's body, and Frisk's life." They paused. "And that goes for you too, Free."

"You slipped again." Frisk's voice was playful in their mind.

Toriel chuckled. "... I am gladdened to see you on such gentle terms with another human," she said, with a wink. "Now, I think I have kept you both too long." She stood. "I will have one of my pies ready when you return home. And Chara, you are welcome to that chocolate I know you have likely been eyeing for over a century."

She turned, and Chara gently let go their control. "I will return this time," they whispered.

Toriel smiled back at them. "I will entrust the fate of two of my children to each of you. Frisk, Chara, please be sure to take good care of them both." Even as she spoke, she had begun to walk, and now she rounded the corner and was gone.

Frisk slumped quietly against the door. Chara flickered into existence before them. ~That... was the hardest thing I've ever done.~ Frisk's hands were slow and clumsy as they signed.

"It will only grow harder from here." Chara shook their head. "You did wonderfully, nonetheless." They smiled softly. "Thank you. If you'd let me have my way, or left it to me to figure a way past... she would be dust right now."

~She wouldn't.~ Frisk shook their head. ~I know you're angry, Chara. I know everything else you feel. And I know you wouldn't kill her.~

Chara raised an eyebrow. "I'm the one who's been encouraging you to fight this whole time. Every last one of them..."

Frisk shook their head. ~I trust you more than you do. You don't really want to.~ They smiled wearily. ~It'll be okay. We'll make the Underground a safe place again.~

Chara closed their eyes for a moment. "Even if you're right, you were the one to find the way. I could never have done what you did. So..." They opened their eyes. "Thank you, Frisk."

Frisk smiled. ~I couldn't have done it without you, either! You singing was just what I needed to stay centered.~ They blushed. ~You... really do have a beautiful voice. Even though it's usually so soft, I can hear every emotion you put into it.~

Chara flushed hotly. "I'm... not entirely convinced that isn't just because you're amazingly perceptive, but... thank you." They shifted. "That was... an old monster song that Toriel taught me. A lament, for senseless loss of life. As a battle that should never have happened... I thought it an appropriate fit."

Frisk nodded. ~So that was your birth country's language?~ They tilted their head. ~Does that song... have a name?~

Chara paused. "Since it was a translation, I suppose it should be named in that language, so... that would be 'Stenochoria'. A lament for an aching heart."

Frisk nodded. ~Hey, Chara?~ They hesitated. ~Why do you... trust me so much? I'm a human.~

Chara shook their head quietly. "Frisk, surely you know from all of our stories that I am wiling to make exceptions."

Frisk paused. ~You talked to me right away, though. Right after we met Mom for the first time.~

Chara nodded slowly. "It's because of your own trust," they said, after a long moment. "The very first thing that happened when you fell down was Flowey pretending to be your friend, then betraying you and almost killing you. The very next thing after that was you seeing Toriel wielding fire magic of immense power. And yet... you trusted her. You took her hand without hesitating even once. And when I spoke to you, even despite urging you to act so absolutely against your nature..."

Frisk's eyes glanced down. ~And then I hurt people, Chara. I hurt monsters.~

Chara shook their head. "You were afraid. You were hurt. Frisk, the only other human to go back on their own after killing, without my urging, was Ypres. Fighting is not who you are. And despite my urging you to fight regardless, you still trusted me." They sighed. "But... above all else... I feel _safe_ with you, Frisk. You have reached out to me for all this time, but you've also waited. You understand me, and you always take such pains to avoid hurting me, even at cost to you. You... act like they did."

Frisk shivered softly, and beamed up at them. ~You... think I'm like Mom, and Dad, and Asriel?~

Chara nodded, but then turned to look at the patch of open ground where the two had fought. "... Speak of the devil, and in shall he ride."

Frisk looked warily at the little yellow flower that had poked up out of the dirt and was now staring at them with a smirk across the face that nestled in his blossom. "Flowey..."

Chara shook their head quietly. "I... have a suspicion or two. Frisk... would you mind trying sign with him?"

Frisk nodded quickly, and moved wearily towards Flowey. The flower scowled and ducked a few inches into the ground. "H-hey! Don't think you can just..."

Frisk raised their hands. ~It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you.~

Flowey froze. Then he raised his leaves and wiggled them. "Golly! You really must be an idiot if you think a _flower_ can talk to you in sign language!"

Frisk giggled slightly. ~You don't need to sign back! Just as long as you understand me.~

Flowey wiggled his leaves again, and made a face like puffing out one cheek. "So! You finally got past the old bag, huh?"

Frisk's eyes narrowed. ~That's my Mom you're talking about...~

Flowey's smile would have put Chara's to shame. "Golly, that's right! What a great mom, too, setting her kid on fire again and again! You two must be so close and happy..." His petals spun. "Anyway, what gives? You were going so great before. I was looking forward to having a nice chat here. And then... suddenly you bailed! You hadn't even hit the Underground proper!"

Frisk paused. ~What are you talking about, before...?~

Flowey's face split into an eerie dark grin. "I know what you did. You thought nobody would remember if you went back, didn't you? But I do." His eyes narrowed further. " _You murdered them._ "

Frisk took a step back. ~You... remember? Even though I reset?~

Flowey laughed. "Before you, I was the one with that power. I remember everything. Every monster you killed. Every mistake you've made." He groaned. "But now you're just being so boring!"

Frisk shook their head. ~I kept you waiting, huh? I'm sorry.~

Flowey sighed. "Oh, well." A fanged smile crossed his blossom. "I mean, you just spending almost a year here with _her_ is definitely something I didn't expect. What were you doing all this time, anyway?"

Frisk considered for a long moment. ~Mom told me about all the other humans who fell down. I learned from her, and from them.~ They smiled. ~It was... nice, getting to belong somewhere. I even got to have a birthday party!~

Flowey spun his petals the other way. "Yeah. I was considering crashing the fun, but... last time the old lady saw me, she sort of... knocked me flying. With fire."

"Toriel is _down-right fierce_ ," Chara crowed, and snickered for reasons Frisk didn't understand. They signed gently to Flowey. ~Well... you were trying to kill me.~

Flowey wilted slightly. "I sure was! But, to be fair, I didn't know how special the person I was after was! I just figured a weak human with no LOVE would be easy to swipe a soul from." He straightened, and grinned. "I had no idea _whose_ soul it was. Golly, that would've been ironic!"

Frisk signed hesitantly. ~What do you mean?~

Flowey rolled his eyes. "Getting back what I'd lost all that time ago, by pure chance?" He shook his head. "... so... how'd you do it, anyway?"

Frisk bit their lip. ~Do what?~

Flowey scowled. "Don't play dumb! My soul's totally gone, you know, but..." His grin returned. "Somehow you're still here, and your soul's brighter than ever. How'd you do it, Chara?"

Frisk caught their breath. Chara shivered. "I knew it." They began to laugh softly. "Quite the sight, isn't it? Still want to trust me, now that you can see what happened to the last person?"

Frisk leaned in. ~Asriel?~

Flowey's eyes widened. "I knew it. That sunny red soul, the way you lie in the flowers, how close you were to Toriel... I knew it was you, Chara!" His leaves reached up, and Frisk leaned close enough for him to touch their cheeks. "I mean, I was a little suspicious at first. The way you suddenly reset and started being so sickeningly _nice_ to everyone..." He reached out with a vine to tap the ribbon at Frisk's hip. "And what's with this thing? That's so not your kind of weapon."

"Mercy Ribbon," Chara recited. They had stopped laughing. "0ATK, Frisk only. A present from your real mother. Cannot deal damage." They shrugged. "He's right. Not my style at all."

Frisk gently ran their fingers along Flowey's stem. "What's wrong with being nice?"

Flowey shivered. "It's just... not what I expect, is all! I was expecting... y'know... something more like the first time..."

Frisk frowned a little, and beckoned behind their back. ~Go ahead,~ they finger-signed to Chara.

Chara sighed softly as they took control. "I'm curious, Asri." They chuckled. "Why would you expect such a thing? Remind me, if you would... just how many monsters did I kill when I was alive?"

Flowey blinked. "Er... none?"

Chara smirked. Their fingers kneaded lightly on one of Flowey's petals. "Then why would you expect anything like that disaster?"

Flowey winced. "Ow ow ow! Well, the monsters weren't trying to kill you back then! You're the one who taught me, remember? And we both know how you feel about traitors like him."

Chara sighed softly. "Geez. Crybaby. I used to do this all the time to your ears, remember?"

"Ears don't come off if you pull too hard!" Flowey flapped his leaves around. "See, this is more like I remember!"

Chara let go quickly. "Well, that sucks. Your petals feel as nice to play with as your ears did." They let out another sigh. "What did I do to you, Asri?"

Flowey blinked. "I... don't know exactly what's happened to me either. I remember dying, of course. But then... I woke up again, and when I did... I was like this, and my soul had completely gone." He sighed. "I should've listened to you back then. But, I tried to have it my own way, and... I got us both killed."

Chara was silent, but their fingers tensed around his petals again. Flowey winced. "N-no hard feelings? I-I swear I didn't know it was you I was trying to kill!"

Chara lowered their eyes. "Kill or be killed, right? That... was the world I lived in, Asri. I wanted so badly for this world to be different."

Flowey smirked. "Well, pretty obvious that's just not the case!"

"It will be." Frisk's voice was firm in Chara's ears.

Chara shook their head. "Well... I want to give it a shot. I mean... what's dying a few more times, right? I have determination on my side, still."

Flowey shook his head. "Take it from someone who's tried. Being friends with everyone is boring." He sighed. "Still. I can't feel anything, but somehow I still think I'm glad you're doing so well."

"... me? Doing well?" Chara laughed incredulously.

Flowey blinked. "Well, you're here, aren't you? And just look at that healthy glow of your soul. You look even better than you did before all this happened!"

Chara's laugh grew just a little stronger. Flowey spun his petals for a moment, and his face softened. His blossom pushed out slightly, almost like a muzzle, and a familiar pair of soft eyes the color of star anise peeked up at them. "And... even if I know you'll get bored sooner or later and come back, I... I kinda like this new, nicer Chara."

With a lurch, Frisk found themself in control of their own body again. "Well, you heard him. Asriel is all yours, Frisk," they heard in their ears, soft and cutting.

Frisk sighed softly, and they gently cupped Flowey's blossom and let their fingers rub at him a little. After a bit, however, they kissed his topmost petal and then stood and glanced away. ~There's a lot left to do. Can we... talk again later?~

Flowey groaned. "C'mon, Chara... I may be a dumb little flower now, but I'm still your best friend! Aren't I? I missed you a lot!"

Frisk nodded slowly. ~I missed you too! I just... don't want to get so tired I have to go back and sleep here tonight. That'd be... awkward.~

Flowey sighed. "Oh, fine. You've got a point." He smirked. "Still. Looking forward to seeing how far you get with that weird new attitude."

Frisk smiled. ~This is what I want. Not how it was before. I've got a good feeling about my chances.~

Flowey raised his leaves. "Chara..." He winked, and for a moment that soft muzzled face appeared, crossed by a cruel smirk. "See you around." With a brief laugh, he burrowed into the soil.

Frisk leaned their forehead against the door with a groan. "Chara? Please come back."

Chara's voice sounded muffled. "I'm here. Just sulking."

Frisk glanced towards the sound. "I really don't want to go through this door alone..."

"Whyever not?" Chara's voice was softer than ever, but almost hissed. "What could I possibly contribute that the new and improved 'Chara' cannot?"

"Being Chara." Frisk's voice was firm.

"... take the advice of someone with a wealth of experience." Chara was staring at the ground when they wavered in beside them. "There is naught of value in being Chara."

Frisk shook their head and raised their hands. ~You're my best friend. That's valuable.~

Chara caught their breath. "Frisk..."

Frisk winced. ~Is he... really mistaking me for you?~

Chara snorted. "It would appear so."

Frisk sighed. ~Are you... mad?~

Chara grunted softly.

~At me?~ Frisk's hands trembled.

"... a little. But I should not be." Chara sighed. "You have done nothing wrong, Frisk. You are not who I should be angry with, and I know it."

Frisk nodded slowly. ~I'm... kinda mad at him too.~

Chara smirked. "Well. He _is_ being kind of a butt."

Frisk burst into giggles, and Chara rolled their eyes. "Truth be told..." They smiled. "I was thinking about what I told you, about Mikage and Yuichi and how I feel about the two of you." They leaned against the door. "There was more to that passage, you know. The cauldron, the lovers... and before all that, Mikage thinks about Yuichi, and she says, 'Even though we're standing side by side, even though we're closer to each other than anyone else in the world, even though we're friends forever, we don't join hands. No matter how forlorn we are, we each insist on standing on our own two feet.'"

Frisk tilted their head. ~But...~

Chara nodded. "Thinking back... that was never really the issue, was it? Asri and I... we never _stopped_ joining hands. Even when I was healed, I clung to his side whenever we went out. If he had to go out without me, I had to huddle up at home with my knitting or curl up in the garden with Asgore. And Asri, well..." They shook their head. "He liked it. He liked protecting me, and he liked letting me lean on him. He wanted me to... keep on leaning on him. The two of us... we never stood side by side. I let myself dangle in his arms as if my legs would not hold me, and he cradled me so close I could never have pulled away. Even the plan... well." They winced. "You... saw for yourself what he thought of that, and what I did. He never did want to let go."

Frisk shifted. ~I... I was a little worried...~

Chara shook their head again. "Look at him now. He's so desperate to have me clinging to him that he's convinced himself that someone else entirely is just me somehow alive and healthy again." They hugged their sides. "He must be... so lonely. All because of me."

Frisk reached out, waiting for Chara to nod before resting their hands against the other child's upper arms. After a long moment, Chara lifted their head. "But you, Frisk... you're not Yuichi or Asriel. Your hand has always been there for me to take when I want it. Yet no matter how much you want to hold tight to me, you never force me to take your hand. And no matter how much you want to hold on, no matter how much you believe I need you, if I draw back, you always let go."

Frisk paused. ~Didn't I just... ask you to stay with me always?~

Chara blushed softly. "You did. You _asked_ me to stay. And I accepted. You want to stand side by side, hand in hand, with someone you love dearly. What's important is that you'll let me stand on my own, when I feel like I need to. But when I don't... I can always rest. I have... somewhere to belong." They closed their eyes for a long moment. "I don't need to tell you how much that means to me."

Frisk nodded slowly. ~I know what not belonging is like.~

Chara smiled softly, and reached out to squeeze Frisk's shoulder. "Thank you. You're so good to me." They sighed. "Just... make sure you let me take your hand sometimes, too. It's not fair or right if you're the only one holding the other up."

Frisk smiled. ~You have already, Chara. Remember our birthday?~ They sighed. ~I feel bad for Asriel, though. Even if I'm kinda mad that he's being mean to you.~

Chara groaned. "You're going to try and help him no matter how much of a butt he's being, aren't you?"

Frisk hummed. ~I bet we can find a nice big cozy flowerpot that even he'll like. He can sleep there in our room, at least until he's fluffy again.~

"Or a lovely vase." Chara grinned and shook their head. "I thought you were a 'puff to the end, but there's a streak of green to your yellow and black after all."

Frisk glanced at their companion. ~Come to think of it...~ They smiled a bit. ~This is how old you were when you fell, right?~

Chara shrugged. "Roughly, anyway?"

Frisk nodded. ~So when I bring you and Asriel back, are you going to be this old? Or...~

"Huh. I almost hope I don't end up as old as when I died." Chara seemed pensive. "Might make things feel awkward between us for a while. Unless you took a few years, I suppose. Then Asriel could keep those horns he was so impatient for." A thin smile flashed across their face. "Then again, maybe all the years I've been dead would count, and the moment I reclaimed my body, I would age a hundred years and more in mere seconds and crumble back to the dust where I belong."

"... so which of us is the one 'wracked with a perverted morbidity' again?" Frisk smirked.

Chara rolled their eyes. "Perverted? You wound me, Free. Morbidity has always been a present and _natural_ part of who I am. You might even say that, since my death, I have undergone _rigor morbid_."

Frisk blinked slowly. ~I think our skeleton friend might get that one.~ They grinned. ~I hope I don't take too long though. Then I might be older than you two...~

Chara put a hand to their chest. "Perish the thought! You must always remain the youngest and cutest of the trio. Asri would pitch a fit if he suddenly found himself to no longer be the oldest."

Frisk giggled at that, and began to slowly push open the door. "Then I'd better get going..."

Chara paused as Frisk pushed past the doorway and took their first steps into the snow. "Frisk? Can I ask you one more favor?"

Frisk turned to them, watching as the magic took hold of the door and began to shut it. The heavy stone slab passed through Chara as if they weren't there. "What's wrong, Chara?"

Chara shook their head. "Nothing is wrong. But..." Their hand went to their chest. "I am... sure you are curious as to what this is." Their hand slipped up to finger a delicate silver chain around their neck. "You have surely noticed it at times, in my memories."

Frisk nodded. "Isn't it private?"

Chara shook their head. "Not for a friend as dear as you." Slowly, they drew the chain from under their sweater. "The favor I would ask of you is this."

Frisk drew close, letting their fingers hesitantly cup the gleaming silver-white heart that lay at the end of the chain. "It's pretty..." they whispered, looking over the inscription on its face.

_Best friends forever!_

Chara smiled warmly. "In New Home, somewhere, lies the real version of this locket," they said softly. "Asgore is far too sentimental to have thrown it away or destroyed it. I want you to find this for me, Frisk." They paused. "Because I would very much like for you to have it."

Frisk's eyes widened. "Chara, what is that locket?"

Chara stared down at the heart, and gently clicked it open to show a tiny copy of a family photograph, faded almost to sepia with time. The mother Frisk knew immediately as their own. The father and the monster child they had seen several times. And beside the monster child, their face buried in a bouquet of wildflowers...

Frisk lit up. "It's you!" they said, tapping the corner of the photo gently.

Chara smiled quietly, tilting the locket to show another photo. They were looking away from the camera again, their hair hiding most of their expression, but Frisk could see the smile in their eyes. Asriel, beaming all over his soft face, was resting in their lap, eyes closed in quiet contentment. "Asri woke me up on my first real birthday with the twin to this hanging around his neck," they said with a chuckle. "Like the sweet, dorky idiot he is, he'd been too excited to think to hide it. When I asked, he panicked and shoved my own locket into my hands. I... never took it off again, after that day. Not even the day I died." They paused, pensive. "I wonder if that means Toriel buried me with it..."

Frisk drew back with a quiet smile, giggling slightly at the crunch of the snow under their new boots. "Hey, Chara? Can I ask a favor too?" They gently tucked their hands against their chest and drew forth their soul, bright red light tinting the snow around them.

"Still you, Frisk." Chara's smile grew even warmer. "Despite everything that's happened, and despite everything that will happen now that you've left Home. It will always be you." They chuckled. "So, besides having me borrow a certain comedian's day job... what favor did you want?"

Frisk giggled softly. "I showed you mine, so... show me yours?"

Chara snorted. "Frisk, you have no idea what that means, do you?"

Frisk glanced at their soul, and slowly Chara's face fell. "You..." They looked down at themself. "Frisk, I told you. My soul is gone."

Frisk hummed softly. "Try? For me?"

Chara repeated Frisk's gesture. "Not to mention, this is a projection, so..."

They trailed off. Frisk had tucked their own soul away, but the snow still glowed a sunlit red. Their eyes fell, hesitantly, to their cupped hands, even as Frisk broke into the biggest smile Chara had ever seen on their face.

What lay in their hands glowed fitfully, and at times seemed to almost go out altogether. The shape was warped, as if twisted by some great force, and jagged, as if the edges had shattered and then been chipped away at afterwards. Still, Chara stared at it almost reverently, at the damaged but unmistakable shape of a glowing red heart nestled in their hands.

"It's like ohana..." Frisk murmured.

Chara blinked. "You've, uh, lost me, Frisk..." They shook their head. "What... is this?"

Frisk stepped close, and let their hands cup Chara's from beneath. "This is your soul!" they said, in a bright, nasal voice that was familiar despite being unlike their own.

Chara thought for a moment, and then broke into a shy smile. "Is little. And broken," they replied in the same voice.

Frisk nodded. "But still good," they finished in their own. "I told you."

Chara's hands were occupied, and so they let their tears fall instead of wiping them away. "Look at that," they murmured. "I haven't been taking very good care of myself, have I?"

Frisk giggled gently. "It's okay. I'll help make sure you do."

Chara sighed slowly. "I'm... still here. Somehow."

"Despite everything?" Frisk grinned.

Chara nodded slowly. "Despite everything. Frisk, how... how did you know?"

Frisk shook their head. "I guessed from the start. Every day, I was more sure." They smiled. "You need a soul to love someone, Chara."

Chara squeezed their eyes shut. "... I really am an idiot, huh?"

Frisk shifted. "Hey, Chara? I think I know the others by now, but... what's a red soul mean?"

Chara nodded slowly. "A red soul can continue no matter what happens to them. Whatever they dream, whatever their justice is, whatever they are at their core... all these things will _be_ , for a red soul. Theirs is power over fate." They smiled softly. "A red soul's virtue is _determination_ itself, Frisk. And... seeing mine still here, despite everything... at this moment, I am filled with it."

Frisk shivered softly. The world seemed to freeze for a moment, to hold its breath, to lock in place in a way that was unnervingly familiar. "Chara...?"

Chara smiled. "Would you mind checking your save, Frisk?"

Frisk paused, reaching back to the moment they were anchored to. "... It's... this morning, just before we got past Mom."

Chara grinned. "How curious." They raised their hand, and a single sparkling light glimmered in their scarred palm, four-pointed and bright.

Frisk blinked. They reached back, feeling again. "But..."

Chara nodded. "Two souls, two saves. You do not need to worry from here on out about needing to reset. If we fail... I will give you the use of _my_ save point, to return here. And we will try once again."

Frisk beamed. "Thank you, Chara. That... that makes me feel a lot more confident."

Chara nodded. "I'll do whatever I can to help you, Frisk."

Frisk giggled. "Then I'll definitely find a way to make everyone happy again. We can be the hope of monsters together."

Chara shook their head. "We'll help Asri too, right? He... really has lost his."

Frisk nodded. "I want to help you both. Neither of you... deserve this." There was a firm look to their eyes. "I won't accept it."

Chara gently drew their soul back into their chest. "Thank you. For everything, Frisk." They smiled. "Now give your voice a rest already."

Frisk leaned back with a weary nod. ~All right. I really am kinda tired.~

Chara looked back at the heavy door that lay closed behind them. "Well, we've left Home at last," they offered. "What should we do next?"

They turned back to Frisk to find a quizzical look on the other child's face. "What? I mean it. I'm your guide, Frisk; you're in the driver's seat. For the most part."

Frisk shifted, chewing their lip as their hands darted like hummingbirds. ~Well... I just want to save everyone. I want to stop Dad and figure out how to keep everyone hopeful and maybe since the other kids are there we can break the Barrier and then Mom can open the Ruins again and...~

Chara grabbed control of Frisk's hands for just a moment. "That's not what I mean, Frisk. All of those things are things you want to happen for someone else."

Frisk chewed slightly harder. Chara winced. ~I want to help you, too, Chara.~

Chara smiled slightly. "I know, I know. But where do you fit into your own grand plans?" They paused for a long moment. "... What I mean is, what does _Frisk Dreemurr_ want? For themself?"

Frisk's hands froze in mid-protest, and their eyes grew huge and round. Slowly, they curled back against the door, sitting in the snow as their face crumpled.

Chara wilted. "Oh, come on. Please tell me I haven't fucked this up too." The laughter that escaped their smiling lips sounded desperate even to them.

Frisk's hands were shaking. ~No! I just... What do I even say?~

"'Why are you being so nice to me?'" Chara's smile was... partially pleasant. "Sorry. Projecting again." They shook their head. "Seriously. You are so utterly adopted even I wouldn't laugh at it. You're the one already calling Asgore 'Dad'. You're allowed to belong, Frisk."

Frisk looked up, eyes still streaming. ~But that's where _you_ belong, Chara.~

Chara knelt in the snow. "I thought that way too, at first. But you're not my replacement, Frisk. None of them were. The place Toriel has for you is _yours_ , and I'm happy to make room for you to have it." They paused. "And as amusing as the mental image I'm sure you're crafting of Toriel attempting to make room in her arms for all nine of us, I need you to stay focused this time."

Frisk sighed. ~But I'm scared I'll drag Mom down. I'm not a good kid, Chara. I'm too needy. You know that.~

Chara's eyes bored into Frisk's. "This is what I was talking about last night, Frisk. You're allowed to need things! Taking care of someone means taking care of what they need! Stop apologizing just for existing and telling yourself you're a bad kid; you _are_ Frisk Dreemurr, like it or not!"

Frisk shook their head weakly. ~Do you... really want me as a sibling?~

Chara shrugged. "I don't know specifically about the word 'sibling'. Asri and I were... more than just that. And I feel much the same way about you. But..." Their hands moved, still sharp and quick but somehow gentler now. ~Whatever else we are to one another, I'd be happy to have you in my family, Frisk.~

Frisk buried their face against their leggings again, but Chara could still see the smile that lit their face.

When their sobs finally calmed, Chara smiled weakly. "You don't have to answer right now, but you have to promise you'll start thinking about it. Your plans have to make room for a certain Frisk Dreemurr, whom I am inordinately fond of, or I won't lift a finger to see them carried out."

Frisk gave a wide, soft smile as they raised their head. "Right now, I think all Frisk Dreemurr really wants is a hug from my best friend Chara Dreemurr."

Chara blanched. "Frisk, I can't call myself that anymore. I threw away my life as part of that family."

Frisk hummed. ~That's okay. As a member of the family, I give you permission.~ They stuck out their tongue. ~You're the one who said you wanted me as part of _your_ family!~

"... I suppose I can acquiesce, then. Just this once." Chara leaned forward and wrapped their ghostly arms around Frisk. "... you're so warm."

Frisk shifted. "Actually, I'm kinda cold. Asriel's scarf has to take over after." Their arms wound snugly around Chara's back. "You can stop when you need to."

Chara shook their head. "It is not a question of when I need to. Not if it's with you, Free."

"I guess you'll have to use that nickname now." Frisk began to hum softly.

Chara considered. "... Ah. Because it would make you a _free dreamer_?" They smirked. "That's... very fitting indeed." They leaned in, insubstantial lips meeting Frisk's cheek for a moment. "But, I don't want us to start off with you catching a fever. Shall we go?"

They stood, and held their hand out. Frisk smiled, and took it, beaming up at Chara.

... after a moment, Chara paused. "I, er, can't actually help you up like this."

"I know." Frisk showed no signs of moving.

Chara rolled their eyes. "You idiot. C'mon, let's go. Both of us silly dreamers."

Frisk nodded quickly, hopped to their feet, and started along the path through the snowy forest. Once they drew level, Chara began to walk as well, letting their hand remain in Frisk's.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, this three-month project comes to an end. For the time being, at any rate; the temptation to write other works building on this canon is admittedly strong, and I do have a few "extra" scenes at least partially written that I'm not honestly sure yet what to do with.  
> Weaving out this ending was surprisingly tough. I dithered a lot over where to put the ending point exactly, whether to have Chara decide to reveal themself to Toriel before leaving, whether other scenes should be incorporated... but, in the end I think this is a good setup. While there's possibly value in seeing how Frisk and Chara react to certain parts of their journey, the place to show those things isn't here. We know the story of their journey through the Underground, after all; we've all guided them through it time and time again.  
> I couldn't resist a chance to nudge just a little more about Chara and Asriel's relationship, though, and Flowey's canonical appearance shortly after the Toriel fight gave me a great chance to do that. And a chance to put in some more references back to Kitchen, because that is literally Chara's canon favorite book and this Chara is secretly a gigantic literature nerd (and because hey I'm not passing up a chance to enhance the shipping). But even in canon there are definite hints that maaaaaybe this wasn't the most healthy of relationships so... well thankfully Frisk is there. Even if they are also slightly miffed about Asriel being A Butt.  
> (... and yes this is still a ship, the family stuff is very much only a -part- of what this Frisk and Chara feel about each other!)  
> Asushunamir and Ereshkigal are reference to a Babylonian myth, during which, and I swear this is really the story, a non-binary person by the name of Asushunamir delves into the Underworld in order to save the captive goddess Ishtar... by literally flirting with Ereshkigal, overseer of disease and the Underworld, until she was so enraptured that she trusted them with the Water of Life, which was literally the one thing that could revive Ishtar and allow her to make her escape. Asushunamir proceeds to restore Ishtar the second Ereshkigal takes a snooze. And then Ishtar blesses them and anyone else nonbinary because Ereshkigal was slightly displeased with the situation and dropped a whopping big curse on literally Asushunamir's entire gender.  
> Yes. There is a myth from one of the oldest civilizations on the planet that not only features a non-binary character, it features them as the _hero_ , who saves one of the single most important deities of the pantheon, by _flirting_. I dare you to even try to find something more perfectly Frisk.  
>  Or, as the narrator of the video that introduced me to Asushunamir put it, "If you're gender-nonbinary, you're magic, Ishtar loves you, and even the queen of the Underworld thinks you're hot." (Overly Sarcastic Productions' "Legends Summarized: Underworld Myths" is the vid you're looking for, it also has a neat take on Orpheus, Persephone, Osiris, and the story of Izanami and Izanagi!)  
> Beyond that, there's not a whole lot to say. Whether or not to have Chara reveal themself was a surprisingly difficult decision even after I wrote out the passage where it happens. In the end I decided to make it a matter of trust; Chara still very much feels the same way about themself as they always have, but they're willing to trust that Frisk is encouraging them to reveal themself for a reason and they're willing to bank on Frisk's perceptiveness.  
> There are definitely other scenes I have mapped out across Frisk and Chara's journey, and one partially written, but they don't enter into -this- story. What, if anything, I do with those will come another time.


End file.
